


Volatile

by BlackFriar



Series: The Volatile Verse [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5367119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackFriar/pseuds/BlackFriar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a transdimensional mishap, Batman and Robin are faced with a murderous Joker rampaging through Gotham and an anti-hero who is determined to remove Robin from the crime-fighting business. Can they strike a balance before it all ends in tragedy and the Joker has the last laugh?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the Young Justice universe, but featuring Jason Todd from Batman: Under the Red Hood.

"Did you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and if you're just a reflection of him?" Calvin & Hobbes.

oOo

Jason could feel anger pulsating through him as he raced down the corridor. The Joker’s mad laughter echoed somewhere in the distance and he pushed himself to run faster. Blood pounded in his ears.

Ever since the Joker had escaped from Arkham last week, Jason had been listening in on his police scanner, waiting for a sighting of the maniac. He’d been somewhat surprised when the first sighting of the Joker had turned out to be at the Gotham Planetarium – the Joker didn’t exactly strike him as the stargazing type. 

His skepticism didn’t stop him from checking it out though. Jason wanted a second crack at the man who killed him, and this time he wasn’t bringing Batman along to stop him. It had paid off when Jason spotted two thugs that worked with the Joker from time to time loitering outside. He had wasted no time in dispensing with them and getting inside the building.

The first place Jason had checked for the Joker was the research labs. He figured the clown was here to steal something chemical or explosive, something that could be used to wreak havoc. But the laboratories were dark and silent. Double checking his weapons as he traversed the dark hallways, Jason started to wonder if maybe the tip had just referred to the Joker’s goons. Then he heard it. Laughter. Subconsciously he clenched his fists; he would recognize that high pitched chuckle anywhere.

The echoing laughter seemed to be emanating from the domed room in the centre of the building and as he hurried in that direction, Jason wondered what the Joker was doing there. Other than blowing up the Planetarium – which was on a hill outside the city of Gotham and therefore unlikely to reap the chaos or casualties that Joker so loved – there was very little damage the Joker could do.

 _Does it really matter? Anything the Joker wants can’t be a good thing,_ he reminded himself harshly, coming to a stop outside the main door that led into the planetarium and listened. The hum of equipment, the sizzle of electricity and the laughter of a mad man trickled through the door.

_For Chrissakes, he’s really just here to watch the show?_

If he lived to be a hundred, Jason would never understand how the Joker’s mind worked. He checked his gun one last time before pushing the door open slowly and peering into the room. What he saw made him stop in his tracks.

The Joker, his back to him, was operating the projector. But it didn’t look like any projector Jason had ever seen. For one thing, a bright white laser was projecting upwards into the ceiling, while a small hole appeared to be forming in mid air. Jason blinked but the hole didn’t go away.

_Well, that can’t be good._

Jason fired once at the centre console, sending a whoosh of sparks shooting upwards while a sizzle of electricity hissed in the air. The Joker spun around, his annoyed glare changing to one of malicious pleasure when he saw who was standing there. “Look who it is, the dead birdie! Not with Batsy tonight then, mmm?”

“Step away from the computer,” Jason ordered, gun cocked and aiming at the Joker’s head.

The Joker’s eyes widened in an expression of exaggerated innocence and he pressed his fingers into his chest as if to say, ‘who, me?’

“Cut the crap!” Jason snapped. “You know I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your skull the first chance I get!”

“Oh, Bird Boy, I get all tingly when you take control like that,” Joker chortled gleefully, then ducked behind the console as an angry Jason discharged his gun. “Temper, temper!” he called from where he was hidden behind the console. “Rash decisions can get you killed, you know. Oh wait, one already did!” The homicidal clown howled with laughter and Jason fired another shot at the console.

“I wouldn’t do that, Bird Brain,” the Joker’s sing song voice echoed up maddeningly from behind the console. “You blow that fuse like you’re blowing your own and you’ll never be able to shut down the portal!”

“Portal?” He stopped advancing forwards. “Who are you trying to kid, Joker? There’s no such thing as portals!” Jason wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince; the Joker, or himself…because that hole hovering fifteen feet in mid air was pretty convincing.

“Oh, yes there is! I made a new friend the other day who told me aaaall about them. Of course, I had to break a few fingers first, but he gave me the four one one eventually!”

More cackling laughter followed this pronouncement and Jason became aware of a third person in the room. A small, spindly little man in a tweed jacket, his glasses askew, was propped on the floor against one of the chair rows, just a few feet from Jason. Blood was blossoming on his white shirt. Swearing under his breath, Jason hurried to the man.

“Okay, its fine, you’re going to be fine,” he told the man, as he shrugged off his jacket and bunched it up against the wound, careful to keep one eye on the console that the Joker was crouched behind.

Sweat beaded the man’s forehead and his eyes were taut with pain as he gasped out, “You have to stop him!”

“Just let me worry about the Joker, you concentrate on keeping pressure on that wound,” Jason replied, trying to force one limp hand to keep the jacket in place. Instead, the hand seized his wrist with surprising force, and Jason looked at him.

“You don’t…understand,” the man wheezed, his eyes wide. “Anything…could come through…you have to…close it.”

“You've got to be kidding me! Are you saying that thing really is a portal?!”

One shaking finger pointed towards the console Joker was crouched behind. “Deactivate…the particle accelerator…” the man coughed and a thin red line dribbled out the corner of his mouth.

“C’mon, man, that thing is just the planetarium projector,” Jason said, not quite able to believe this was happening, yet simultaneously becoming aware of a slight breeze whipping around them. He glanced back at the hole and was startled to see that it had almost doubled in size.

He turned his attention back to the man whose eyes were now closed. Jason shook him. “Hey, HEY! How do I close it?” The man didn’t respond and his head rolled to one side. “Peachy!” Jason groaned.

He glanced back at the console – the Joker had gone suspiciously silent. But that didn’t matter, Jason was the one with the gun and he had to close that portal. Springing to his feet, he dashed to the console, keeping his gun aimed as he peered around the side.

The Joker was gone.

With a snarl of frustration, Jason turned his attention to the computer console. The keyboard was completely fried from where he had shot it with the gun. _Smooth move, Einstein._

The air was whipping around him more fiercely now and a crackle of electricity sounded above his head. He looked up and saw coloured lights forking across the now enormous hole. “Aw, hell!”

With no idea how to stop it, Jason dropped to his knees and pulled the security panel off the console. He reached in and started pulling out wires.

“No!”

The sudden shriek sounded behind him and something smashed into him, knocking him sideways and sending his gun scattering across the floor. He twisted, just in time to see the Joker bringing down a crowbar and caught it before it could hit his chest. His legs kicked out, knocking the clown to the floor. Together they wrestled for mastery of the crowbar, rolling over and over.

“Just like old times isn’t it, kid?” the Joker yelled over the howling wind.

“Go to hell!” snarled Jason through clenched teeth. He kept one hand locked on the crowbar while the other scrabbled on the floor for his gun. The Joker was on top, using it as a weight advantage to try and press the crowbar into Jason’s throat. _You are so not doing this to me again!_ Jason thought, angrily bringing both hands back to the crowbar and using all his strength to smash it into the Joker’s face.

The clown instantly released the crowbar and clutched both hands to his nose where Jason could see red trickle through his white fingers. He used the momentary distraction to swing the crowbar into the Joker’s side and shove the man off him before rolling for his gun, twisting as his fingers closed on it and lunging to his feet.

He didn’t have time to use it. There was a loud crack and Jason found himself being flung violently backwards by a blinding white light.

oOo

Something sharp was poking him. That was the first thing that occurred to Jason. The second was that people were shouting somewhere near by. Snarling slightly through clenched teeth, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was stars.

He blinked. _Uh, how did I get outside?_

He reached around to yank out whatever was poking him in the back and pulled out a snapped tree branch. Irritably, he tossed it aside and sat up, groaning slightly. He was in the middle of a dense thicket of trees, and somewhere on the other side he could hear shouting and the crackle of flames. Cautiously, he got to his feet and climbed the nearest tree for a better view.

Through the tree branches, he glimpsed the Gotham Planetarium – or what was left of it – being devoured by flames. There were three fire trucks and several fire-fighters battling to get the blaze under control. Several police vehicles were parked a little further back and Jason could see Commissioner Gordon amongst them, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Jason hissed and shifted further backwards into the gloom of the trees. If Gordon was here checking out the mess left by the Joker then that meant…

There he was. That large looming shape striding out from the shadows was impossible to miss. Officers jumped aside as Batman approached Commissioner Gordon, and Jason scowled. It was always the case that others scattered for Batman because Batman sure as hell moved for no one.

Jason decided he had seen enough. The Joker was long gone and he was not in the mood to tangle with Batman tonight. In fact, Jason had gone out of his way to avoid Bruce since their vicious showdown almost two months ago, and he wasn’t about to change that now. He gripped a large branch and was just preparing to swing down when his attention was caught by a small shadow moving after Batman. Something tightened in his throat and his heartbeat quickened.

 _It can’t be_ …

Everything else blurred around him. The only thing Jason could focus on was the small shape now standing beside Batman while he conversed with Commissioner Gordon. He was surprised by how hard he found it to just breathe. This couldn’t be happening.

It felt like an eternity before Batman nodded to Commissioner Gordon and left, the small shape moving after him again. 

Jason’s breathing hitched and he swung to the ground. Not caring if someone saw him, he dashed through the trees in the direction that Batman had vanished.

It’s not possible! He couldn’t…he wouldn’t!

His mind whirling and heart pounding, Jason crashed through the trees in the general direction of where he guessed the Batmobile must be parked. He got there just in time to see a small, slight figure jump into the car. The flash of red and yellow as the cape flared up was unmistakable and Jason stopped dead, feeling as though he had been socked in the chest.

The car moved off, and Jason watched the smooth exit without really seeing it. His whole body was trembling. He couldn’t have seen what he had just seen, it wasn’t possible!

 _And why the hell not?_ an angry voice awoke in the back of his mind. _You’re alive. It doesn’t matter that you died because you’re not dead anymore. Clearly Bruce has decided that Robin can be resurrected just as easily._

“That stupid son-of-a-bitch!” Jason swore loudly. Rage and hurt were pounding in his ears. Was he so easily replaced? Was it so easy to forget what had happened to him just because it turned out he was actually alive? And what about the kid? Had Batman really gotten so careless that he was willing to let the boy out after so little training?

 _Maybe he thinks its okay now because any dead Robins can be just dropped in Ra’s little fountain of youth!_ thought Jason bitterly.

But Jason would be dammed if he was going to let history repeat itself. He’d spent the last two months avoiding Batman, but now it was time that Batman was reminded of the consequences of his actions.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dick! Come on, we’ve got to go!” Bruce yelled impatiently up the stairs. He turned to Alfred. “If these late nights are interfering with his ability to get up for school, then I’m going to have to curtail how often he goes on patrol. DICK!!” he bellowed up the stairs once more.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Dick appeared at the top of the stairs and used one hand to propel himself onto the banister. He slid down quickly and neatly flipped off, landing in front of Bruce. “I couldn’t find my biology book.”

“Master Dick, what have I said about using the furniture as gym equipment,” said Alfred imploringly. 

Dick looked apologetic. “Sorry, Alfred, I forgot.”

“I guess you also forgot that I have an important meeting at Wayne Enterprises this morning,” Bruce grumbled, ushering him out the door. 

“I didn’t forget,” Dick replied, waving goodbye to Alfred as he hurried down the steps after Bruce. “I told you, I couldn’t find my book. See, this is what happens when Alfred cleans my room, I can’t find anything.”

“So you’d rather he let you keep that mess you call a desk,” Bruce responded drily, sliding into the car and starting up the engine. “I don’t know how you find anything in there.”

“Its organised chaos,” said Dick, buckling his seatbelt. “There’s a system.”

“Right.”

“Did you find out anything else about that explosion at the Gotham Planetarium last night?” Dick asked eagerly as the car drove through the gates of Wayne Manor and turned in the direction of Gotham. 

Bruce glanced at him and smiled at the enthusiasm on his face. It amused him that even after four years, Dick could still get so excited about crime fighting. “I analysed some of the samples I collected last night. Whatever caused that explosion used vast amounts of energy; there were still readings of residual energy when we arrived.”

“Do you think it could have been something they were working on in the lab?”

“I won’t know until the computer finishes running specs on the samples, but there was some negative energy. I can’t see the Planetarium using anything like that in its laboratories.”

“Do you think we should patrol tonight and see what we find?”

“I will be patrolling alone tonight. It’s a school night and I already let you patrol last night.”

“But tomorrow’s Friday. C’mon, Bruce, please?” 

“No. Besides, you have a test tomorrow.”

Duck huffed and crossed his arms. “Why is it you can never remember when I get invited to parties at school, but you always remember when I have a test?”

Bruce smiled to himself but didn’t answer. Truthfully, he always remembered when Dick was invited to parties, but sometimes it was more convenient to forget…especially if those parties were going to take place at a house without parental supervision or where the supervision was going to be less than responsible. It would frustrate Dick if he knew just how close an eye Bruce kept on his fellow classmates, and that he could pinpoint _exactly_ which ones were most likely to cause trouble and therefore should stay as far away from Dick as possible.

Bruce was well aware of the irony of his over-protectiveness when he allowed Dick to run around as a masked hero fighting crime, but at least Batman was always there to supervise and ensure he didn’t get into trouble. High-school parties, where it was likely there would be copious amounts of alcohol, girls and possibly drugs were a whole other ball game.

“So, if we can’t go tonight, do you think maybe we could go tomorrow night?” Dick’s tone was hopeful and Bruce glanced at him.

“Sure. But I would have thought you would rather go to Mount Justice and see the team?”

Dick shrugged. “I can see them next week. It’s not like there’s a mission on the horizon. Besides, we haven’t really done the dynamic duo thing for a while and I kind of miss it.” He flashed a smile at his mentor.

Bruce nodded. “Okay, we can patrol tomorrow night.” Inwardly he felt a warm surge of pleasure. He would never admit it but he had missed having Dick patrol with him over the past few weeks while he had been so preoccupied with the team. It was ludicrous to admit it, but Batman had been a little lonely and was slightly worried that his little bird was outgrowing him. It was nice to know that Dick still wanted to spend time with him.

“So what’s the big important meeting about this morning?” Dick interrupted his musings. “It’s been a while since you had to go in this early.”

“We’re brokering a new deal with some foreign investors on the South American project and some of the board members have voiced their concerns that I be at the meeting.”

“You mean they complained to Lucius and he told you to get your butt in,” Dick grinned at him slyly and Bruce grimaced. He detested the argumentative nature of board meetings.

For the remainder of the journey, they chatted about the South American project; a massive redevelopment campaign that Wayne Enterprises was spearheading to save the rainforest by investing in local companies to encourage working with the environment rather than destroying it. Dick was a keen environmentalist and constantly asked questions about the project. Bruce was still answering some of those questions twenty minutes later when they pulled up in front of Gotham City Academy.

“I’ll be working late so Alfred is going to pick you up,” he reminded Dick as the boy climbed out of the car. 

“I know. I’ll be on time.” Dick grinned. Bruce was more liable to tolerate his inclination to linger and chat with his classmates after the final bell than Alfred, who abhorred tardy timekeeping with the same virulence he reserved for bad table manners.

Hoisting his bag on his back, Dick waved and headed in through the gates. Bruce waited until he saw him enter the front doors and then pulled away.

oOo

True to his word, Dick was out almost immediately after the final bell. Alfred was waiting by the car with the door open and Dick sighed. He preferred when Bruce picked him up because, even though it was Bruce Wayne and he drove a Ferrari, it still didn’t draw the same level of attention that a very proper English butler standing beside the open door of a vintage Rolls Royce did.

Dick waved and smiled at Alfred, trying to ignore the smirks of Dirk Cadwell and his gang. Even though Gotham City Academy schooled the children of the wealthiest families in Gotham, none of them were on the same level as Bruce Wayne. And some students – such as Dirk Cadwell – resented the fact that Dick with his circus roots was Bruce Wayne’s son.

“Hi, Alfred,” Dick greeted the old man cheerfully as he drew level with the car. “Asterous day, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Alfred smiled, shutting the door after him when he climbed in, before returning to the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

Dick grinned. It had dismayed Alfred when he had first started playing with prefixes and “butchering the English language” as the man had once proclaimed to Bruce, but now it had become something of a running joke between them: Dick trying his hardest to shock Alfred, or at least get him to use one of his prefix-less words, while the older man smiled indulgently and refused to rise to the bait. 

Dick wondered how he would react if Alfred ever actually used one of the words. _Probably die of shock,_ the boy decided.

“How was school, Master Dick?”

Dick shrugged and sat as far forward as his seatbelt would allow so that he could catch Alfred’s eye in the rear view mirror, “Meh. Same old, same old. Although Mr Wilcox has asked me if he could put my name forward for the AMC Twelve exams this year.”

“The mathematics competition? What did you tell him?”

“That I wanted to talk to Bruce first.”

“A wise decision, Master Dick,” said Alfred, turning the car out of the city. He and Dick fell into a companionable silence as Alfred drove along the lonely coast road to Wayne Manor.

Dick settled back in his seat, idly watching the trees on the other side flash past. His thoughts strayed to going patrolling with Bruce the following night and he smiled. It had been weeks since they patrolled together, and Dick was looking forward to it. The previous night didn’t count because they had only visited the Planetarium after the explosion. Dick hoped they would see a little bit of action the following night.

He was jerked out of his thoughts as the car bounced suddenly, followed by several loud bangs. The Rolls swerved dangerously across the road. 

“My word!” Alfred exclaimed, fighting to regain control of the car. 

The car rolled to a halt and a shaking Alfred turned to face Dick. “Are you alright, young sir?”

“I’m fine, Alfie. You?”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve located my nerves.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure, but I think we may have blown a tire.” The butler climbed out to investigate and Dick could see him frown as he examined the front of the car.

“What’s wrong, Alfred?” the boy asked, clambering out after him.

“Both tires appear to have been split right open,” Alfred answered, his face still scrutinising the car. “I can’t think how…”

“I can,” said Dick grimly, his sharp eyes scanning further back the road and immediately locating a spike strip. “That.”

“Master Dick, get in the car NOW!” Alfred shouted suddenly and Dick turned back just in time to see a man in a red mask running towards them out of the trees. He raised his arm and threw something at the car where it exploded, enveloping them both in a noxious gas. 

Dick immediately covered his mouth and moved towards where Alfred had been standing. He could hear the man coughing and felt something burn in the back of his own throat. He coughed, feeling his limbs get heavy. From somewhere to the front of the car, he heard a loud thump. 

“Al…cough…fred…cough.” Dick’s legs gave way and he fell to his hands and knees. His head felt light.

There was someone beside him. Dick managed to look up and glimpsed a red face looking down at him through the fog. Then he slumped to the ground and the last thing he was aware of was hands grabbing him.


	3. Chapter 3

Jason had to resist a strong urge to check on Alfred as he reached down and scooped up the limp form of the boy. The gas wasn’t dangerous and the butler should be okay, but Jason hated having to do it to the man who had been so kind to him in his youth.

“Sorry, Alfred,” he muttered, cradling the boy to him and hurrying back towards the trees. He had left the bike he’d hotwired the night before back there; some punk had stolen his bike from outside the Planetarium. If Jason ever got his hands on the person responsible, he would kick their ass into the middle of next week.

He reached the bike and retrieved some handcuffs which he used to restrain the boy’s hands behind his back. He also gave him a shot of Ketamine to ensure he stayed unconscious – that gas only worked for ten minutes at most. Jason had no intention of hurting the kid, but he could not have him escape before he talked him out of being Robin. That costume came with a death-wish.

He eased the unconscious boy crossways onto the bike in front of him, and used rope to bind him to his chest. It was weird, highly visible and not the safest way to travel, but they weren’t going far and what mattered most to Jason right now was putting several miles between him and what would soon be a very angry Batman.

The bike roared to life and shot out onto the road. It was more awkward than Jason had imagined, trying to maneuver the bike with an unconscious child bound to his chest, but once he got used to it, he was able to go a little faster. Careful to keep to the back roads to avoid being seen, Jason arrived at his destination within an hour; a ramshackle hut down the coast that used to belong to an old hermit. It was overgrown with weeds and no one had been there in some time; it was the perfect place to chat undisturbed. 

Jason untied the kid from his torso and carried him inside. He laid the boy on the floor, checked his pockets to make sure they were empty – finding several types of lock picking equipment and a cell phone, which he immediately disabled – before winding a long coil of rope around the boy’s upper body. Only then did Jason stop to study his captive.

The boy was younger then he’d realized, maybe eleven or twelve, and skinny in a horribly breakable sort of way. The Joker would snap him like a twig if he ever got his hands on him.

Jason scowled. _Not if I can help it._ He reached over and shook the boy. “Hey, kid, wake up.”

The boy’s eyelids twitched and he groaned slightly. After a few seconds, his eyes fluttered open and took in his surroundings. He glared at Jason.  
Jason laughed, amused. “One thing’s for sure, kid, you have the Bat-glare down pat! Here, let me help you sit up.”

The boy went stiff and tried to jerk away but Jason ignored him, helping him to a sitting position propped against the wall. “Here, have some water.” Jason removed the flask from his pocket and offered it to the boy. The boy pursed his lips and pressed his head back against the wall in refusal.

“I’m not going to poison you! Here, look.” Jason took a long swig of the water to prove his claim before offering it to the boy again. “Take it,” he said in a gentler tone. “That gas is murder on the throat.”

This time the boy swallowed some of the proffered water. When he was done, Jason replaced the lid on the flask and put it back in his pocket. “See? Not poisoned.”

“Who are you?”

Jason studied the kid. There was something very familiar about him. “I guess he didn’t tell you about me, huh?”

“Who?”

“Batman.” The kid shook his head. Jason gave a bitter laugh. “Figures. Of course he’d leave out the bad stuff when recruiting another innocent kid to be Robin.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t bother with that shtick, kid. I know Bruce Wayne is Batman…just like I know you’re his newest recruit as Robin.”

The boy looked shocked, but tried not to show it. “Dude, I think that metal helmet is squeezing your brain too tight! Bruce isn’t Batman, where would you get an insane idea like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I was Robin before you?”

“What!” The boy looked really stunned now.

“Oh, come on. I know it’s been a few years but surely you knew there was a Robin before you – two as a matter of fact.”

The kid was shaking his head looking bewildered. “What are you talking about? I’m the first Robin, the only Robin!”

Jason chuckled at the slightly possessive note. “Sorry to burst your bubble but you’re not. Although I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you given what happened to me.”

“What…happened to you?” the kid’s voice was a whisper and he sounded very confused, and very uncertain.

_Good! Let him see what a liar Bruce is; let him know that Bruce doesn’t care!_ “I was murdered.”

The kid cocked his head to one side looking sceptical now. “You don’t look dead.”

“Visited the Lazarus spa.”

“So, are you like…a zombie?”

“A what?!” Jason burst out laughing at the quizzical expression on the boy’s face. He held a hand to his head as he chuckled. Jason had never thought he would have laughed at anything to do with his death, but he never expected to be asked a question like that, or have it asked so innocently. “Ah geez,” he grinned, sobering slightly. “Thanks for that, kid, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

“It wasn’t that funny.” The kid looked annoyed and more than a little indignant. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“What? Am I a zombie?” Jason paused to consider. His lips were twitching, threatening to break into laughter again. “I guess I am.”

“But not the flesh-eating kind?”

Jason gave another snort of laughter. “No, not the flesh-eating kind.”

The kid looked thoughtful, like he was processing the information. “So, why are you telling me this? And why did you kidnap me if you’re not going to eat my brains?”

Jason shook his head, grinning behind the mask. He liked this kid; he really did… Why the hell was he so familiar? “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. And I’m going to have you home in time for dinner this evening. I just wanted to talk to you without Bruce or Batman interfering.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to give up the Robin gig. Kid, you may as well paint a big-ass bulls-eye on your back when you wear that damn costume! It’s like screaming ‘come get me’ to every psycho in Gotham.”

“Well, yeah, but you could say the same thing about Batman.”

“Batman is grown man, not some skinny little twelve-year-old–”

“Thirteen!” the kid interjected at once.

“Thirteen? Seriously?” said Jason in disbelief. “Okay, okay,” he added as the kid glared. “Either way, Batman is big enough and stupid enough to be responsible for his own decisions. You, on the other hand, are just a kid whose biggest worry should be what girl you like best!”

“But I love being Robin! And Batman never forced me–”

“I know he didn’t force you!” Jason softened his tone. “I loved being Robin too. But it came at a price, a big one.”

The boy eyed him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not some criminal mastermind trying to get me to quit just to get at Batman?”

Jason sighed. Bat-paranoia. He had not expected to deal with Bat-paranoia. The kid had only been with Bruce for two months at most, not nearly enough time to instill the good old lessons of trust nothing or no one…or so Jason thought. Bruce must be getting worse.

“Kid, if I really were some psychopath Jonesin’ to get at Batman, then you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be dead and I’d be stringing you up in Gotham somewhere for Batman to find.”

The kid winced. Jason knew he had been harsh but made no apologies for it, now was not the time to use kid-gloves. Not if he wanted to get this kid as far away from the Robin persona as possible. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. That’s why I'm doing this.”

“But why? You don’t even know me.”

The kid’s eyes were wide and it was really starting to bother Jason now. _Why the hell is he so familiar?_ “True, I don’t know you. But I do know you don’t deserve to die like I did.”

The boy’s expression softened into sympathy. “What happened?”

Jason shook his head as memories of maniacal laughter, metal striking flesh and _pain_ came back to him. “It doesn’t matter – you don’t need to know that. What you do need to know is that you’re a little kid who can get really hurt or worse in this gig, and you need to get out while you still have a chance.”

“What’s your name?”

The sudden change of topic caught Jason off guard, and he had to swallow the pang of angry bitterness that rose in his throat. It wasn’t the kid’s fault Bruce hadn’t told him who he was, or what had happened to him. “Jason. Jason Todd.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason, I’m–”

The words were drowned out by the rickety old door exploding off its hinges and crashing to the floor. An angry black shape filled the doorway. Its eyes bored into Jason before charging.

The younger man tumbled away, springing to his feet. He whirled and then ducked as a large fist swung at him.

“Batman, no!” he could hear the kid yelling, as he backed into a defensive stance. “Don’t hurt him!”

Batman never looked at the kid. His jaw was tense and his whole body poised in rigid offense. “Why not?”

“He only wanted to talk to me, not hurt me.”

“He kidnapped you.”

Anger vibrated through Jason; partly because he thought he would have had more time before Batman found him, but mostly because Bruce had assumed he would hurt the kid. “You stupid, paranoid asshole! Did you really think I would hurt him?”

Batman’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You abducted a young boy on his way home from school, that doesn’t say much for your character.”

“I’m no angel and I’ve never pretended to be. But you talk to me about abducting him when you dress him up in that stupid fucking costume and send him out to face the filth of Gotham! Tell me, who puts him in more danger?”

Batman was very still now. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give me that crap, Bruce! I’ve already told him everything – something you should have done before you recruited him to your cause!” Jason spat the words.

Batman visibly started. “Do I know you?”

The anger and hurt were overwhelming. “Are you really going to pull that crap? After everything? Seriously?!”

“I’m not trying to pull anything,” Batman’s tone was calm and careful. “I really don’t know you.”

“You’re a lousy liar, Bruce,” Jason accused in a soft voice, the lump in his throat hurting him. “But if that’s how you want to play it, fine.” He looked at the kid on the floor. “Tell Alfred I’m sorry I gassed him.”

“I never said you could leave.” Batman took a step towards him.

“Try and stop me,” Jason countered, flinging a smoke bomb and using the coverage to put as much distance between him and fucking Bruce Wayne as possible.

oOo

Batman wasted no time in getting Dick back to the Batcave where Alfred could examine him.

“I’m fine!” Dick protested. “Alfred, I don’t need to be checked over, he didn’t hurt me… _Alfred!_ ”

“I will be the judge of that, young sir,” said Alfred primly, peering into each of Dick’s eyes. “That gas may have some nasty side effects.”

“You got hit with the gas,” Dick pointed out.

“And have already determined myself to be in perfect health. Now hold still.”

With a sigh of frustration, Dick submitted to Alfred’s ministrations and turned to Batman. “How did you know where I was?”

Batman leaned over and reached into the front pocket of Dick’s blazer from which he retrieved a small tracker. “I noticed a bike trailing us this morning and slipped this into your pocket just in case.”

“And you couldn’t just tell me?” said Dick in exasperation.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”

“We have a bigger problem. What did Red Hood want with you?”

“He just wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Me being Robin…or rather, me not being Robin.” Dick recounted what had transpired between him and Red Hood. When he was finished, Batman was silent.

“All appears to be in order, Master Dick,” Alfred smiled and began tidying away the medical equipment.

“Told you.” He hopped off the gurney and faced Batman. “What did he mean about me not being the first Robin?”

“He lied.”

“He didn’t sound like he was lying.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed and he pulled back his cowl, becoming Bruce Wayne once more. “Dick, this man kidnapped you, why would you think that anything he said was the truth?”

“Because this was different; he didn’t want to hurt me. Bruce, all he wanted was to talk me out of being Robin.”

“And that’s what bothers me. How did he know your identity? How did he know mine?”

“I don’t know, but…Bruce, he sounded like he really knew you. And, Alfred, he told me to tell you that he’s sorry he gassed you.”

The butler raised a sardonic eyebrow. “How very thoughtful of him. I shall be sure to tell him that he’s not forgiven should I ever encounter him again.”

Bruce shot Alfred an amused smile but Dick was frustrated. “I’m serious. Bruce, I think…I think this guy needs help. He said he died but Ra’s resurrected him in the Lazarus Pit.”

“Now I know he’s lying. Ra’s would never resurrect anyone other than himself in the Lazarus Pit, and certainly not anyone proclaiming to have helped me.”

“But how did he know who you were?” Dick persisted. “Who I was?”

Bruce’s expression was troubled. “I don’t know. I distinctly saw him trailing us this morning – he’s good, but I’m better. There’s no way he could have been watching us without my having been aware of it.”

“So what do we do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?!” Dick was incredulous. “But how do we find him?”

“We don’t. Red Hood didn’t achieve what he intended today, he will come to us.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was with a heady sense of anticipation the following evening that Robin jumped into the Batmobile with Batman. He hoped they would run into the mysterious Red Hood. Batman had explained to him that Red Hood was a persona which had been utilized by several criminals, including the Joker, but that this Red Hood was someone whom Batman hadn’t encountered before – despite the man’s claims to the contrary.

The ride into Gotham was silent. Batman was in a grim humour and Robin knew better than to talk to him when he was like this. The man would consider and analyze every move they would make that evening before they even left the car.

Pulling into a darkened alley on the outskirts of Gotham, Batman turned to his partner and fixed him with a stern expression. “Robin, stay close tonight. No solo flights.”

“’Kay.” Robin shrugged. He knew that was coming.

They left the car and travelled in the shadows of Gotham. The September night air was still warm and Robin revelled in the rush of wind through his hair as they whipped through the upper levels of the city. He didn’t care what Red Hood said, he loved this. No way was he giving it up.

The night turned out to be rather uneventful: a couple of muggings and one store robbery, but no sign of Red Hood. After several hours, Robin could feel the disquiet coming off of Batman in waves. He knew the man had expected Red Hood to have shown himself long before now. Clearly this Red Hood was not as predictable as his predecessors, and that made him more dangerous in Batman’s eyes.

Robin wasn’t sure what to think. Batman was adamant that he had never encountered this Red Hood before, but something about the man’s anger felt real to the boy. He hoped Batman wouldn’t call it a night before they found him…or rather, he found them.

Suddenly, an explosion shattered Robin’s thoughts. Without speaking, or even looking at one another, the dynamic duo changed course and swung smoothly back in the direction of the blast.

It wasn’t hard to locate the scene of the disruption. Rockets were shooting fifty feet into the night sky and Robin realized that the old fireworks factory down by the docks was on fire. An acrid smell of smoke and fireworks greeted them as they landed on the docks, and the heat from the fire drove them back several paces.

“Do you think anyone was in there?” Robin yelled over the roar of the flames and fireworks.

“I hope not. But we need to search the area for anyone that may be injured. Take the right around the perimeter, I’ll take the left. And, Robin,” Batman paused and fixed him with a glare, “don’t even attempt to enter that factory.”

“Hey, do I look crazy?” he threw over his shoulder as he ran in the direction that Batman had indicated.

Robin was careful to keep his distance from the flaming factory that was spitting out fireworks like they were going out of fashion. He was glad that there didn’t seem to be anyone in the vicinity of the factory, although something unpleasant churned in the pit of his stomach at the idea of someone being in there.

A bang sounded to his left and Robin had to throw himself to the ground as several whizzing pyrotechnics were launched in his direction. He looked up to see several stacked crates combust, sending multicoloured sparks spewing over his head. He flipped forward just before the upper-most crate toppled and crashed to the spot he had been just a split second before.

“Wow!” Robin breathed. “A little too close!”

“Nice move, Bird Brat!” a sneering voice sounded. “Too bad it didn’t squash you, would have saved us the trouble.”

Robin jerked his head around. Two men with guns stood there. He recognised them as Joker’s goons and grinned. “Sorry, guys, not tonight!”

Before they had a chance to react, he catapulted into the air. Placing his hands on the shortest man’s shoulders, he spun his body upright and twisted his legs in a fast helicopter kick that smashed into the taller man’s face and sent him reeling, before continuing forward and using his momentum to leverage the shorter man into the nearest crate. Spinning, he snatched the gun from the taller man’s hands and smashed it into his face before sweeping his legs from under him. The man groaned and went limp, and Robin tossed the gun aside.

“Nice move, kid.”

Robin whirled to see Red Hood standing watching him. “You!”

Red Hood inclined his head. “I’m guessing our little conversation yesterday didn’t impress you?”

“Oh, it impressed me, just not in the way that you wanted.” Robin shifted into a defensive stance. The Joker had used the Red Hood persona before, and these were his goons – was this guy working with the Joker?

“Relax, kid, I meant what I said yesterday; I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d catch the show.” He gestured lazily towards the spectacular pyrotechnic display showcasing itself overhead.

Robin snorted. “Yeah, right! You could catch this show from anywhere in Gotham.”

“What can I say? I like to be where the action is. Where’s Batman?”

“Around.”

Red Hood laughed and Robin wished he could see the man’s face. It was hard to tell what he intended without any facial cues.

“You really do meet the dregs of Gotham society in this part of the city, don’t you?” a husky voice sounded just behind Red Hood. The man snapped around revealing the Joker, holding a very big knife. “Hey, Bird Boy, who’s your new friend? Can’t say I like his taste in clothes much.” The Joker swung his knife at Red Hood who flipped backwards, landing near Robin.

“Who’s the clown?” he demanded.

Robin was surprised. “That’s the Joker. How can you know all about Batman and not know who the Joker is?”

Red Hood jerked slightly. “That’s not the Joker!”

The clown scowled at Red Hood. “What’s the matter, not what you were expecting?”

“Not what I know!” the Red Hood growled, clenching his fists. “Is this some sort of trick? Because if it is, it’s not very funny.”

“Oh, you want funny?” The clown smiled. “I can do funny.”

He raised his left hand and it was then Robin spotted the device. “Look out! He’s gonna–” 

His words were drowned out by an explosion that echoed even over the fireworks and something slammed into him. The something rolled with him behind the fallen crate and Robin found himself pinned by a much bigger someone. 

“Stay down!” a voice growled in his ear as another deafening bang whistled, sending debris raining over them.

Robin was stunned to realize that Red Hood had knocked him out of the path of the explosion and was now shielding him from the rubble that was clattering down around them.

A distant wail of sirens sounded, but it was drowned out by a third explosion that impacted across the ground and vibrated through Robin’s chest. Flames were licking their way towards them from the stacked and fallen crates.

“We need to get out of here!” Robin yelled. “This whole area is going up!”

“We’re not putting ourselves in that crazy wannabe’s line of fire!” Red Hood snapped.

“Is that a bad joke? We’re already in the line of fire!” Robin could feel the heat starting to burn now and tried to push himself upwards, but Red Hood was more than twice his size and kept him firmly pinned.

“Relax, kid, I know what I’m doing. Now, stay down!”

Red Hood shifted upwards, peering carefully around the crate. Robin was alarmed to see that he had a gun. “What are you–?”

“MOVE!” Red Hood seized the back of his cape, dragging them both to their feet as the crate shattered into pieces. Joker came into view, the knife still in his hand while the other hand now contained a very big gun.

Robin instinctively flipped upwards onto the crates behind him as a hail of bullets snickered towards them. He was aware of Red Hood doing the same thing. Being lighter than Red Hood, Robin landed two crates higher. He looked down at the man. “You know what you’re doing, huh?”

“Shut up!” Red Hood snapped, lunging upwards and seizing Robin then dragging him down behind the crates as more bullets whizzed past them.

“STOP doing that!” Robin complained irritably. “I can take care of myself!”

There was a _whoosh_ and from nowhere, Batman landed beside them. “Are you both okay?”

“Fine,” said Robin shortly. “It’s Joker, he’s got–”

The crates hiding them exploded, and Robin found himself being forced to the ground by Red Hood. “Quit it!” Robin growled at him.

But Red Hood wasn’t listening. “That lunatic must have explosives hidden everywhere! This place is gonna go up like the fourth of July!”

“I already told you that,” Robin reminded him irritably as they got to their feet.

“Come out and play, boys!” the Joker’s voice called and he appeared through a haze of smoke, the gun pointing straight at them. He smiled when he saw Batman. “Afraid of missing out on the action? Can’t have that.” He fired again and they scattered to avoid the hail of bullets.

Robin found himself behind another crate with Red Hood and groaned. This was getting ridiculous! The man was like a limpet. No way was Robin seeing any action while he considered himself the dedicated babysitter.

Bullets were whistling overhead, sending chunks of wood splintering around them. Red Hood leaned around the crate and discharged his own gun in response. “I don’t care who this guy thinks he is! He’s really starting to piss me off!”

Batman appeared on Robin’s other side as another explosion rocked the docks. The atmosphere was heavy and hot, and Robin found his chest getting tight as the growing inferno sucked the oxygen from the air around them. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.

Batman scowled disapprovingly at the gun in Red Hood’s hands but didn’t comment. “Can you get out of here?”

“You know I can. But I’m not leaving that psycho to ignite this whole area!”

“I can handle the Joker. You get Robin out of here.”

“You’ve got be kidding me!” Robin burst out furiously. “Not you too! What is with the kid gloves?!”

Batman ignored him and flung a batarang at the Joker as more gunfire erupted overhead. Furious curses sounded and with a sharp swish of his cape, the Dark Knight was gone.

“That’s our cue,” Red Hood told him, holstering his gun and producing a suspiciously familiar grapple gun. Firing a rope upwards at the crane overhead, he wrapped an arm around Robin’s waist and before the boy could object, they were flying through the air.

“What are you doing?!” Robin cried. The raging inferno swallowing most of the ground beneath them looked even worse from the air. “Batman’s down there! We can’t leave him!”

“Batman can take care of himself,” Red Hood answered, swinging them neatly onto the roof of a building well out of the fire's range and putting Robin down.

“Are you crazy? Look at that fire! He can’t handle Joker and survive that!” Robin’s voice was panicked and he made a dash for the edge of the roof. 

Red Hood dived after him, bringing him to the ground in a flying tackle. “NO!”

“Get off me!” Robin rolled sideways and flipped to his feet. Red Hood did the same and Robin narrowed his eyes at the man. “Look, you want to protect me, I get it. But I can take care of myself and I am not leaving Batman to face the Joker down there!”

“Oh, yes you are. And if I have to tie you up to keep you here, I’ll do it.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me, kid. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and however good you think you are, I’m better.”

“Let’s just see about that!” Robin threw one of his smoke bombs at the man, reached for his utility belt and discharged a line. But before he could swing himself off the roof, Red Hood crashed into him sending his grapple gun clattering to the street below. Furious, Robin threw a hard punch to the man’s stomach then flipped backwards, landing several feet away and out of the man’s grip. He retrieved an exploding batarang and flung it at Red Hood who twisted sideways, using a baton to knock the batarang over the side of the parapet.

Robin scowled and produced his escrima sticks, rushing the man and trying to engage him in combat. He didn’t want to hurt him, but he needed to put him out of commission so he could get back to Batman. But Red Hood ducked his blows expertly, twisting swiftly and using his baton to send one of Robin’s sticks clattering to the side. Robin frowned. Red Hood _moved_ like Batman!

“I told you, kid, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

Robin snorted. “I doubt that.”

Laughter sounded behind the mask. “How long have you been doing this? One, two months tops?”

Robin was even more confused now. This man knew enough about Batman to know his secret identity, how could he not know about Robin? “Two months? Try four years.”

It was impossible to read the man’s expression with that stupid mask, but Robin saw his whole posture go rigid and when he spoke, it sounded like it was an effort. “He’s been training you for _four_ years?! That son-of-a-bitch!”

Robin could hear the hurt in his voice and relaxed his fighting stance. “It’s Jason, right?” Red Hood nodded. “Why is all of this so important to you? You said you worked with Batman, but he said he doesn’t know you.”

“He lied.”

“No. I didn’t.” The deep voice of Batman sounded from behind Red Hood, who gave an angry start and whirled around.

Robin felt relief flood him at the sight of his mentor. “Batman, are you okay?”

“Fine. Joker is in the hands of Gotham PD. The fire department are trying to put out the fire.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Red Hood snapped. “You know as well as I do, that wasn’t the Joker!”

Batman fixed Red Hood with a piercing stare but the man didn’t even flinch. “That crap doesn’t work on me, Bruce, not anymore.”

“Why do you keep talking like we know one another?” Batman demanded, as Robin joined him.

Red Hood’s fists balled into fists. “Don’t pull that crap! Tell the kid the truth!”

“That is the truth.”

“You’re a liar!” Red Hood was shouting now, anger and hurt bleeding out into his voice. “I thought that after my death you’d never take on another kid as Robin. But then he showed up!” He jabbed a finger in Robin’s direction. “When I first saw him the other night, I thought that you’d taken him on after I came back because I was alive, because my death didn’t matter! But then I find out that you’ve been training him for four years. Four fucking YEARS, Bruce! How long was I dead before you started looking for a replacement?”

“I told you, I don’t know you.”

Red Hood’s response was to throw a hard punch at Batman’s jaw and causing his head to snap to the side. “STOP SAYING THAT!”

“Whoa!” Robin was between them now, two hands held up in a placating gesture. “Take it easy, Jason.”

“Take it easy? Take it EASY! He’s lying, glossing over his dirty little secret! How long before the truth comes out, Bruce, huh? Before or after his death?”

“Will you stop talking about me like I’m going to die!” snapped Robin in frustration.

Red Hood put two hands on Robin’s shoulders and stared down at him. “Kid, you’re not invincible! I thought I was and it got me killed! And you!” He snapped back to face Batman once more. “What the fuck were you thinking when you took on a nine-year-old as Robin?! I mean, I know Dick was nine, but he was a circus brat with skills, and no where near as small as this kid! Have all these years of getting knocked about by criminals finally softened your brain?!”

Batman was very stiff now. “Who’s Dick?”

“Who’s Dick?! Jesus, you really have lost it! Dick Grayson, the boy wonder, the first fucking Robin!” Red Hood had stopped shouting now, his gaze going between both Batman and Robin who were both frozen in place. “What? What did I say?”

Robin’s voice was very soft when he answered. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but…I am Dick Grayson.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jason wondered if he was losing it. Had the kid really just said he was Dick Grayson? He stared at Batman and Robin.

Robin quirked an eyebrow. “Dude, say something.”

“You…you can’t be Dick Grayson. Dick is five years older than me!”

Robin’s eyes widened and Batman stepped forward. “What year is this?” he demanded sharply.

“W-what?” Jason stammered. His heart was pumping a mile a minute. He couldn’t think straight.

“What. Year. Is. It?”

“2010… It is 2010, right?”

Batman nodded and Jason was relieved. For a minute there, he’d almost believed he’d gone back in time or something. Then he frowned. If he was in the right time, why in the hell was this kid so much younger than him? He put a hand to his head. _Why do I feel like I've just walked into the twilight zone?_

“We’ll work this out,” Batman told him. “I take it you know where the Batcave is?” 

Jason nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. 

“Meet us there as quickly as you can,” Batman ordered.

Then they were gone, leaving Jason alone on the rooftop.

oOo

Pressing every ounce of speed out of the stolen motorcycle, it took Jason less than thirty minutes to arrive at the Batcave. Much to his irritation, Batman and Robin were already there.

 _Figures,_ thought Jason irritably. He guessed Batman was using his knowledge of Bruce Wayne’s world to determine if he was telling the truth. And that included knowing where the Batcave was. Jason would like to have gotten there first just to prove he didn’t follow them.

Climbing off his bike, he stalked over to where Batman was seated at the computer, trying to ignore Robin who was sitting cross-legged on a table watching him eagerly. He didn’t care what anyone said – no way was this kid Dick Grayson. He was too small for starters, and that costume was not Dick’s Robin costume. “Okay, Bruce, what’s going on? And don’t tell me you don’t know because I bet you have some clue what’s going on here.” He knew this man wasn’t his Bruce, but that still didn’t stop him from feeling antagonistic towards him.

Batman turned around in the swivel chair and pulled the cowl off his head. “I think you’ve been transplanted here from another reality, some type of transdimensional mishap.”

Jason blinked. “Transdimensional what now?”

“This isn’t your world. I don’t know how, but I believe you got caught in some kind of portal that sent you here.”

“Not my world…this is earth, right?”

“Yes, but not your earth. There are infinite realities of earth, all lying one on top of the other.”

Jason’s head reeled at that tidbit of information. “So how the hell did I end up here?”

“Probably some form of a rip in the space time continuum.”

“You mean like a black hole?”

“In a manner of speaking. Do you have any idea how this happened?”

“Do I look like a science nerd? Wait! Son-of-a– Joker!”

“What does the Joker have to do with this?”

“He was at the Planetarium night before last, doing something with the projector.” Jason explained what had happened at the Planetarium, while trying not to look at the kid. He had removed his mask and Jason felt something churning in his stomach at the facial similarities to the Dick Grayson in his world. How could he not have seen it before? But then, the Dick in his world had never seemed that small or that young in pictures. Or had he? Jason wondered just how young he had appeared when he wore the Robin costume.

Bruce looked thoughtful. “So I guess we know how it happened. Now we just have to figure out how to get you back.”

“Perfect. What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Hang out here,” the kid – Dick – suggested at once, smiling at Jason in a free and easy way that Jason couldn’t help but return from behind the mask.

“Thanks, kid, but I think that one is up to Bruce.”

He turned back to Bruce, who was watching Dick with a slight frown. “Under any other circumstance I probably wouldn’t agree, but in this instance I think that would be the best option.”

Jason stiffened. “You mean you want me where you can keep an eye on me.”

Bruce shook his head. “No. After the way you protected Robin this evening, I doubt you mean any harm. Besides, this isn’t your world and you have no where else to go.” He smiled at Jason who was surprised at the gesture.

“Uh, thanks, I guess.”

“So, are you gonna take off your mask?” Dick asked. “Not being nosy or anything, s’just Alfred doesn’t allow costumes in the house.”

Jason grinned. It would appear some things didn’t change in this world. “He didn’t allow them back in my world either.” Reaching back, he unhooked the red mask and lifted it off, then peeled off the domino mask beneath.

“Two masks? Dude, that’s paranoid.” Dick was shaking his head and grinning teasingly at him and Jason couldn’t help but smile back. There was something altogether too damn likeable about this kid.

He turned back to Bruce who was studying him, memorising every aspect of his face. Jason sighed inwardly. _Oh yeah, some things are definitely the same._ “So, what now?”

“It’s late. We should all get some rest. We can start working on how to get you back to your reality tomorrow. I’ll show you to your room.”

oOo

It was weird. Jason would have thought that finding himself in another reality with another Bruce Wayne, in a house identical to the one he had spent his teenage years in, would have made it pretty damn hard for him to sleep.

He slept like a baby.

When he finally woke, he took a quick shower and then changed into the spare clothes that someone – probably Alfred – had left draped over the chair near the door. All he needed now was some coffee and food and he’d be able to face this new reality. Whatever that meant. Jason stepped out into the familiar hallway, marveling that every single thing was the same here as it had been in his world…except for one small exception.

“Morning,” a voice greeted him as the door to his right opened and Dick appeared. “Coming down to breakfast?”

Jason’s lips tugged in a smile. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dick had been hovering, waiting for him to get up. “Sure. Lead the way.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Dick asked, falling into step beside Jason.

“Better than I thought considering I’m in a whole other reality.”

Dick waved a hand. “Eh, happens all the time. Batman and the League will be able to get you back easy.”

“The League?”

“Yeah, you know, the Justice League?” Jason shook his head and Dick’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re kidding! You don’t have a Justice League in your world?”

“Obviously not. Want to explain who they are?” Jason was amused to see that Dick was practically trotting to keep up with his longer strides, and he slowed his pace slightly.

“Well, they’re heroes who work together to keep the world safe.”

“Safe from what? And what kind of heroes?”

Dick shrugged. “You know, super-villains and aliens, that sort of stuff. Some of the heroes have super powers, but some of them are like Batman, regular people who fight on the side of Justice.”

Jason had been mouthing the word aliens to himself when what Dick said caught up with him. “Wait, super powers?!”

“Yeah. Like Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern–”

“We have a Superman in our world,” Jason remembered. “He stays pretty much in Metropolis though.”

“That’s where he’s from here too, but he spends a lot of time with the League.” Dick paused. “Isn’t it weird how some things are the same but others are different?”

“You have no idea, kid.” Jason shook his head as they reached the dinning room.

Bruce was already there, reading the paper and drinking coffee. Jason saw him frown slightly when he entered with Dick. He supposed he couldn’t blame him: he didn’t want the kid getting too attached to him either, especially when he would be going back to his own world.

Jason tried not to think about the fact that he was already getting kind of attached to the kid himself.

“Morning,” Bruce greeted them as Dick slid into the chair beside his. Jason sat on the other side of Dick and Bruce caught his eye. “How did you sleep?”

Jason shrugged. “Pretty good, all things considered.”

“I’m going to contact the League today. Knowing where you entered our reality makes it easier to send you back to your own, but we need to recreate the conditions exactly to get it right.”

“But I don’t know what the Joker did, and it’s not like he’s here to ask him.”

Bruce shook his head. “We just need to match the energy used. I already have a reading from the Planetarium and I’m running diagnostics to determine exactly how much negative energy was used so that we can duplicate it.”

“So it could take a while to get me back?”

Bruce nodded just as Alfred appeared with plates of sausage, bacon and eggs for Jason and Dick.

The butler put the plate in front of him and Jason placed a hand awkwardly to his neck. “Uh, Alfred? Sorry about the other day. You know, with the gas and…stuff.” This wasn’t his reality and this Alfred didn’t know him, but Jason still felt the need to apologize. He had always been very fond of Alfred.

“Master Bruce has already explained the situation,” Alfred informed him, putting a plate in front of Dick. “However, if I may be so bold as to give a little advice, sir, it is never a good idea to waylay an elderly gentleman and kidnap a child.”

Jason felt very small. Clearly, while the Bruce glare in this reality didn’t faze him, this Alfred could still make him feel like a wayward four-year-old with just a few words. “Sorry,” he said meekly.

“Indeed.” Alfred retrieved the silver coffee pot from the sideboard and poured a cup for Jason before returning to the kitchen without another word.

“Don’t worry, he’ll come around,” Dick whispered.

Bruce folded his paper and put it aside. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Plans? I’m in another world. I haven’t exactly given thought to anything beyond that.”

“I could show you our Gotham,” Dick piped up. “Do you have an Inside Scoop in your Gotham?”

“Inside what?”

Dick smiled gleefully. “Guess that means you don’t. It’s only the best ice-cream parlour in the world! They make their own ice-cream – you should taste the sundaes!”

Once more, Jason found himself smiling back at that contagious smile. 

Bruce, however, was frowning. “Dick, I’m not sure Jason wants to go traipsing around Gotham eating ice-cream–”

“Sounds better than sitting around here all day,” Jason cut in, engaging Bruce in a silent stare down. No one was going to tell him what to do, least of all Bruce Wayne.

Bruce’s expression darkened. “Fine. I’ll give you a ride. Alfred can pick you up later.”

“Can’t we take the bikes?” Dick’s expression was hopeful.

“You know the rules. Just because Jason is here doesn’t mean we break them.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

Jason glanced between the two of them. Clearly he was missing something here, but before he could ask what, they were interrupted by Alfred. “Master Dick, I have Mr. West on the phone.”

Dick slipped out of his chair. “Oh man, I completely forgot to call Wally yesterday! Coming, Alfred.”

Jason waited until Dick left the room before turning to Bruce. “What was that thing about the bikes?”

Bruce glanced at him. “Only Robin rides the bikes, Dick takes the car.”

“How does that make sense? They’re the same person.”

“Gotham doesn’t know that. If Robin is attacked, he can fight back. Dick Grayson on a bike has no defense.”

Jason was baffled. “Why would Dick be attacked?”

Bruce leaned back in his chair and studied him. “Have you or the Dick Grayson from your reality ever been kidnapped? Other than as Robin?”

“No.”

Bruce seemed surprised at that. “I had assumed that my counterpart in your reality is financially well established.”

“He is.”

“And yet you or the other Dick have never been kidnapped?”

Jason had an idea where this was going now. “No. Dick?”

“Twice.” Bruce scowled. “Now do you understand?”

Jason stared at his plate. So the kid was a target in any persona? The thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. “Is that why you sent him to Gotham Academy? Dick and I went to a public high school; neither one of us wanted to go to a private school.”

“Neither did Dick, but I’m afraid he didn’t have a choice in the matter.” Bruce paused. “I hope I can trust you to keep him safe today?”

His expression was very dark as he studied Jason, and the younger man realized why Bruce had been so against them going into Gotham in the first place. He nodded, knowing that his actions the night before were the only reason that Bruce was trusting him now.

Jason felt slightly smothered by the weight of that trust.

oOo

“So?” Dick demanded several hours later as they headed for the infamous ice-cream parlour. “How different is this Gotham to yours?”

Jason wasn’t sure how to answer. For the most part, this Gotham was almost identical to the one he inhabited, but there were also some glaring discrepancies as well. Discrepancies that made him slightly uncomfortable. The streets were cleaner, the people seemed less on edge…even the weather seemed less grey. He looked at Dick’s expectant expression and settled for the least complicated explanation. “Some of it is different but it’s mostly the same.”

Dick nodded, satisfied, as though he had expected that. “This is it,” he told Jason, stopping outside a fifties style ice-cream parlour. Inside was decorated with red booths, vintage signs and a jukebox in the corner.

It looked like a walking cliché and Jason had to force himself not to roll his eyes. However, fifteen minutes later he had to concede that Dick was right; the ice-cream was amazing. “I feel like I won’t be able to move for a week,” he groaned as he finished the last of an enormous sundae.

Dick grinned slyly across the table. “You know, we could get some of their ice-cream cake to take away for Alfred. It’s his favourite.”

“Oh, I see,” said Jason in amusement. “A peace offering?”

“Something like that.”

Jason laughed. “Alright, kid. I’ll get the cheque and order the cake. You call Alfred and tell him we’re ready to go.”

He was still chuckling as he walked to the counter. He knew it was a bad idea to get so attached to Dick – it would only make it harder when he had to go back to his own reality – but he couldn’t help it. There was just something so likeable about the kid. Plus he was pretty funny for a thirteen-year-old. Jason couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed a day as much as he’d enjoyed this one.

Five minutes later, he returned to their booth with the peace offering disguised as cake, and was surprised to find three boys sitting with Dick. At first he thought that they were friends from school, but then he realized they were older, bigger, and Dick was tense as he leaned away from the one beside him. One of them had what looked like Dick’s phone in his hands.

“Problem?” Jason growled as he reached the table.

The one sitting beside Dick looked up. Jason could see him taking stock of his muscular frame before shifting away from Dick.

“No, no problem, just saying hello,” the teenager smirked, sliding out of the booth and standing up.

The other two followed suit, but Jason grabbed the one with the phone by the upper arm. “Forgetting something?”

“Uh, no,” the boy mumbled, tossing Dick’s phone back to him and shaking off Jason’s hand.

“See you at school, Dickie boy!” waved the one who had been sitting beside Dick as they walked away.

 _Punk!_ thought Jason, his hand clenching in a fist. He could wipe that smug smirk off that brat’s face in one second flat.

“No!” Dick hissed, seizing his hand to pull him back, and Jason realized that he had been about to go after them.

He dropped into the seat opposite Dick. The boy kept his gaze on the table, refusing to look at Jason. “Want to talk about it?”

Dick shrugged. “Nothing to talk about.”

“Didn’t look like nothing. Are those kids bullying you?”

“It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“Right. Where have I heard that before?”

Dick looked at him. “Not from me.”

“No, but isn’t that what everyone says when they’re dealing with bullies? That they can handle it? Come on, kid, spill.”

Dick sighed. “The big guy is Dirk Cadwell. He and his friends have been giving me a hard time ever since I started at Gotham Academy.”

“Define hard time.”

“Mostly just name calling, knocking my books…you know, stupid stuff, the usual. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Jason disagreed, feeling hot anger and wanting very much to go after the little shit and rearrange his pretty boy face. “What do your teachers say? Have you told Bruce?”

“No, and I’m not going to. Jason, this stuff happens all the time. Give them a couple of weeks and they’ll get bored, move onto someone else.”

Jason studied the kid closely. His shoulders were hunched and he was frowning, but he didn’t look scared, he looked angry. “That’s not what’s bothering you, is it?” Dick shook his head. “What is?”

Dick looked around before lowering his voice. “I could kick all their stupid asses, and then some! But instead, I have to sit back and listen to them call me circus freak and take it. It sucks!”

Jason was surprised, and a little impressed. Dick was showing a lot more restraint in the situation than he would have. Even now, Jason couldn’t guarantee that if he was in Dick’s shoes, there wouldn’t be a few broken noses. He leaned forward. “You know what? I agree. Bunch of cowards like that? You could easily kick their asses. But the fact that you haven’t shows that you’re the bigger man. Any idiot can fight; it takes a real man to walk away from one.”

Dick smiled at him and Jason was surprised at himself. Where the hell had that come from? He had never been one for advice, much less good advice. “Did you manage to call Alfred before the moron triplets arrived?”

Dick nodded. “He was already in Gotham. He should be here soon.”

Jason glanced at the box with the ice-cream cake. “No ice-cream for Bruce?”

“He doesn’t eat it. He doesn’t eat any junk food.”

 _Of course he doesn’t._ “His loss.”

“You’re not gonna tell him about those guys, are you?”

“I think he should know, Dick.”

“Please don’t. I can handle them. I don’t want Bruce to know.”

“Why not?”

Dick remained silent, staring at him with a pleading expression. Jason sighed. “Fine, I won’t say anything to Bruce.” Dick looked relieved.

Jason was grim as he got to his feet. It may be off limits to have a chat with Bruce about this, but he hadn't said anything about the bullies. Dick might not be able to teach them a lesson, but that didn’t mean Red Hood couldn’t.


	6. Chapter 6

They were joined for dinner that evening by Dick’s friend, Wally West. Jason was surprised to learn that not only was Wally aware of Dick’s secret identity, he also fought alongside Robin on the junior version of the Justice League, where Batman deployed them on missions. It was another marked difference between the two realities: this Bruce seemed to encourage teamwork. Jason’s Bruce didn’t play well with others.

Jason enjoyed dinner, although he had been both revolted and fascinated by the amount of food Wally seemed able to put away – the kid was like a walking human garbage disposal.

“It’s a metabolism thing,” Dick had whispered to him at one point when Jason’s fork had paused in midair while he watched, mesmerised, as Wally accepted fourth helpings from Alfred. 

Jason didn’t know about metabolism, it seemed more like a tapeworm problem to him.

Bruce had asked some questions about the Batman and Robin from Jason’s reality, which he had answered without revealing too much of his past. There were certain elements of it that he preferred Bruce didn’t know about. He did, however, laugh until his sides hurt at Dick’s reaction to the Robin costume from his world.

The boy had choked on his juice, spraying some of it on the table, much to Alfred’s chagrin. “Green scaly underwear and…pixie boots?!” he spluttered. “That’s child abuse! Bruce, you ever try to make me wear something like that and I swear I will hunt you down!” His horrified expression had prompted a small smile from Bruce and gales of laughter from Wally and Jason.

Both teenagers had asked Jason way too many questions about his adventures in the ‘other Gotham,’ something that Jason was not at all eager to share. He had managed to divert them from their enquiries by asking them about the adventures of their team. Much to his amusement, they had both preened under the attention and tried to outdo one another with tales of action-packed heroics. He suspected that Bruce had clocked his evasion of the questions though, and wondered if the man would call him on it later.

After dinner, Alfred addressed Bruce as he started to clear away the plates. “Will you have coffee in the library or your study, sir?”

“The library I think. Jason, join me?” The tone was neutral, but Bruce’s eyes told Jason it wasn’t a request.

“Sure.”

They got to their feet. Dick showed signs of wanting to follow them, but a sharp look from Bruce stopped him. He gave Jason a quick grin and retreated upstairs with Wally.

Jason followed Bruce into the library. It was almost identical to the one in his reality, right down to the painting of Thomas and Martha Wayne over the fireplace. The only difference was the pictures of Dick and Bruce decorating the mantelpiece. Bruce sat into one of the large easy chairs by the fireplace while Jason occupied the opposite chair. Alfred poured coffee for them both, smiling slightly at Jason as he did so.

Dick had been right about the ice-cream cake. Alfred had been surprised and pleased when Jason had sheepishly presented him with it, and his manner towards Jason had thawed considerably. Jason was glad. This Alfred was identical to his own in every aspect, and he did not want him to think poorly of him.

Bruce waited until Alfred left the room before speaking. “Did you and Dick enjoy your day in Gotham?”

Jason nodded, sipping his coffee. Gut instinct told him this was going to be part conversation, part interrogation.

“What did you talk about?”

Jason shrugged. “Pretty much the differences between our worlds. Dick talked a lot about you and the Justice League.”

“Did you talk about Robin?”

“It didn’t come up.”

“Good.” Bruce leaned forward. “I know you mean well by Dick, but the choice of whether or not he wants to be Robin is his to make. I won’t have you trying to influence him just because you have issues with the role of Robin in your world.”

“You don’t know anything about me or my world!” Jason snapped defensively.

“You’re right, I don’t. And I noticed that you’re not so eager to share information about it either.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does if it impacts on Dick in this reality.”

“I already told you, I don’t want to hurt Dick! I’m not going to do anything to screw up his life here.”

“But you don’t agree with his being Robin?”

“No.”

“Why are you so against the role of Robin? Does it have anything to do with your death?” Jason remained silent and Bruce continued. “You’ve alluded to your death several times now, but you’ve never told us what happened. Why?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“I don’t. But you seem…angry about it. I’d like to help.”

“I was murdered! Of course I’m fucking angry about it!”

Bruce’s tone was gentle. “Jason, what happened to you?”

“Nothing much to tell: Joker beat me half to death with a crowbar, then blew me up. It hurt. End of story.” Jason’s voice was full of bitter anger.

“I’m sorry.”

Jason looked away. It was easy to say sorry, but actions were what showed the real sentiment in someone’s heart. He turned back to Bruce. “If Joker did that to Dick, what would you do?”

Bruce’s face darkened. “Joker will never do that to Dick. I guarantee it.”

“But you can’t guarantee it, that’s the problem. The Bruce in my world never intended for me to get killed but he still couldn’t stop it. Same as he wasn’t able to stop Two-Face from battering Dick with a baseball bat, even though he was right there at the time.”

Bruce looked horrified. “You both died?!”

“No.” Jason shook his head. “Dick survived. It was his first year out as Robin and the first time he confronted Two-Face.”

“If Dick is still alive, why did you become Robin?”

“Dick got tired of being ordered around so he hit out on his own. Calls himself Nightwing now.”

“So both of you are estranged from Bruce?”

“What makes you think we both are?”

“You both gave up the mantle of Robin. And some of the things you’ve said indicate that you didn’t reveal to your Bruce that you were alive until very recently.”

Jason stiffened. He’d forgotten how damn observant Bruce Wayne could be, even in this reality. He would have to tread more carefully. “Dick and Bruce have a truce of sorts. They even work together from time to time. Me and Bruce? Let’s just say we don’t agree on some of the finer points of crime fighting.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

Jason scowled. “Because you don’t need to know about the relationship between me and the Bruce in my world. It’s not relevant here.”

“I disagree. I’ve been catching attitude from you since we first met and I think it’s related to some unresolved issue between you and your mentor. Do you blame him for your death?”

Jason scowled mulishly at him and crossed his arms. He remained silent. Bruce Wayne could go to hell if he thought he was going to psychoanalyze him.

Bruce frowned. “You don’t blame him for your death, do you?” Jason could see him watching him carefully and looked away. “You’re not angry at him because you died,” Bruce continued. “You’re angry at him because he let Joker live.”

Jason’s head snapped back around. “Can you blame me?! That freak has murdered countless people! Even my death wasn’t enough for Batman to finally see sense.”

“So you think murdering Joker is the only solution?”

Jason was on his feet. “Don’t you pull that sanctimonious shit with me, Bruce! It’s not murder for something like Joker; he’s not human! No one can do the things he does and have any humanity left in them! It’s a waste of time to keep returning him to Arkham to ‘rehabilitate’ him.” Jason used angry air quotations. “Joker doesn’t want to be rehabilitated! He wants to kill as many people as amuses him, and to make as many people as possible suffer! How is someone like that worth keeping alive while the innocents around him die?”

“Maybe he’s not. But that’s not your decision to make. It’s not anyone’s decision to make. Once you give in to the instinct to kill, you become the people you hunt.”

“Bull! There’s a big difference between murdering innocent people and getting rid of the scum that prey on innocent people!”

Bruce’s mouth was a thin line, his eyes dark. “I’m guessing that this is one of the finer points of crime fighting that you and my counterpart disagree on: you think it’s acceptable to kill, he doesn’t.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” snapped Jason bitterly.

Bruce fell silent, staring into the empty fireplace. Jason could see his jaw clench as he digested what he’d just heard.

“So what now? Is this the part where you tell me to go? That I’m no longer welcome now that you know I have blood on my hands?”

“No.”

Jason blinked. “No?”

Bruce looked up at him and his expression was deeply unhappy. “Jason, I don’t wish to criticize your mentor–”

“Go right ahead, doesn’t bother me!”

“– but it seems to me that he’s made a lot of mistakes by you.”

Jason froze. The last thing he had been expecting now that Bruce knew he was a killer was understanding or sympathy. “What are you talking about?”

Bruce gestured towards the chair Jason had been sitting in to indicate that he should retake his seat. He did so, wondering what sort of ploy this was.

“Listening to what you have told me and watching you fight the other night, I’ve noticed some things. But first, let me ask you this, have you noticed any differences between Dick’s Robin costume and your own?”

“You mean aside from the fact that Dick’s is a hell of a lot cooler?”

Bruce gave a slight smile and nodded. Jason thought about it, not seeing anything other than a Robin costume designed for stealth and a Robin costume designed for the circus. But then he realized something. “Dick was heavier as Robin,” he remembered, thinking back to the differences in weight when he had kidnapped Dick and when he had forcibly removed him from the burning docks. He looked at Bruce. “Kevlar?”

Bruce nodded. “Protecting all the vital organs, but still not as much Kevlar as my own costume. Do you know why?”

Jason thought about it. Robin’s fighting style flashed into his head. “You fight at close quarters. Robin’s costume needs to be lighter because you’ve trained him to fight from a distance, not to engage where possible.”

“Very good. Everything about my costume, about my body, is designed for close combat. Everything about Robin’s costume is designed to enable him to use his strengths – his speed, his acrobatics – to keep him out of arms’ reach.” Bruce leaned forward and his eyes narrowed slightly. “The Robin costume from your reality offers no protection, but yet your fighting style is like my own. You’ve been trained to engage, to use your strength against an opponent…that tells me that your Bruce did not take enough precautions to ensure your safety. Whether he intended it or not, he left you vulnerable. That was mistake number one.”

“What was mistake number two?”

“He left your anger unchecked. I could be wrong, but it seems that the only outlet he gave you for your rage was the Robin persona, and that’s not enough.”

“What else is there?” said Jason shortly, not liking how uncomfortable, or how vulnerable, this little chat was making him.

“Talking. Regardless of how sentimental you think that is, it’s important to understand your anger so that you can learn to deal with it. If the only way you learn to channel anger is through violence than it becomes the only way you can vent it, making it dangerous and destructive to yourself and those around you.”

Jason’s heart was beating so hard against his chest he was amazed Bruce couldn’t hear it. “Are you saying it was my own fault that I died?”

“The only person responsible for your death was the Joker. I’m just saying that I think your Bruce left you unprepared for some of the realities of crime-fighting, and that has impacted on your ability to deal with the fall-out from your death.”

“And I suppose you can help?” snorted Jason sarcastically.

“I don’t know. I’d like to try if you’ll let me?” The tone was soft, warm.

He hadn’t been expecting this. Jason stared at the ground, his vision a little blurred. He wondered would his life have turned out as it did if his Bruce had been more like this one? So much less about the mission and so much more about the people around him. His Bruce had been Batman all the time. This Bruce was Batman only when in costume.

Maybe he could help him. Jason blinked and his vision cleared. He looked up at Bruce who was watching him and gave a nonchalant little half-shrug, trying to keep the pain he was feeling hidden.

He was fooling no one. The older man smiled a little sadly. “Okay then. We can keep some of the…realities of your world between us. Dick doesn’t need to know about them.”

Jason nodded, relieved. He could stand Bruce knowing that he was a killer, but he couldn’t bear it if Dick knew. He was the first person in Jason’s life who had ever looked up to him, and Jason didn’t want that to change.

“If we’re going to do this, then we need to set some ground rules,” Bruce’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Okay.”

“First, no killing people. I don’t think I need to explain my reasons to you?”

Jason nodded. He didn’t bother to tell Bruce that he didn’t think killing was needed here. This Gotham had hope – it wasn’t as mired in filth as the one in Jason’s own reality.

“Second, tone down your language, especially around Dick.”

That caught Jason off guard and he stared. Bruce was scowling and had his arms crossed. Jason could tell at once that he had been itching to say that to him since they’d first met. He blushed slightly. Maybe he was a bit of a potty mouth. If he was making changes then he may as well go the whole hog: go big or go home and all that.

He tried to think of this as a learning experience and not a fresh start.

oOo

“Checkmate.”

“What! Again! How?”

Dick stared in frustration at the chessboard and Jason chuckled. They had taken to playing chess over the last few evenings while Bruce had been out on patrol and although Dick was very good, he still hadn’t been able to beat Jason. Jason could tell that it was setting off his competitive streak.

“You still thinking three moves ahead?”

Dick nodded, glaring at the chessboard, trying to discern just where he had gone wrong.

Jason smiled. “That’s old hat. Everyone plays chess like that. Start thinking five moves ahead and plan multiple strategies.”

“If I did that it’d take me forever to make a move!”

“Better to take time deciding what to do and getting it right than rushing in and playing yourself into a corner.”

They both knew he wasn’t just talking about chess. Jason’s years of outthinking criminals, strategic planning and enforcing multiple scenarios made him a master tactician. Dick was good, but he was still learning.

“Play again?”

“Rain-check, kid.” Jason smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair, before standing and stretching. “It’s late and you have school tomorrow.”

“Huh,” said Dick, catching sight of the clock. “I didn’t realize it was so late. Batman’s been staying out later and later the last few nights.” He started to tidy away the chess set. “Jason, do you think he’s worried about something?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“He wouldn’t let me patrol last night–”

“It was a school night, Dick.”

“That hasn’t stopped him before,” Dick pointed out. “And ever since Sunday, he won’t talk about what’s been happening on patrol. He’s been on edge – plus he’s spending all his time in either the cave or his study. Jason, I know something’s bothering him.”

“He’s probably just working on getting me back to my world. Try not to worry, Dick, I’m sure everything is fine.” He spoke consolingly, but Jason had noticed the same things that Dick had. Combine that with the tension that was forming around Bruce’s eyes and something was up. But that didn’t mean that Dick had to worry. “Shouldn’t you be getting off to bed? Don’t you have that ABC math thing tomorrow?”

“AMC,” Dick corrected, smiling. “And it’s just a mock exam Mr. Wilcox is setting to see if I’m up to the standard of the AMC Twelve exams. It’s not a problem, I can do it easy.”

“Don’t get cocky. Remember that story about the tortoise and the hare?”

Dick rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Whatever, Yoda. We still on for a sparring match tomorrow evening?”

“Yeah. I’ll make sure to bring my kid gloves.”

“No kid gloves!” Dick grumbled and Jason laughed.

“No kid gloves,” he agreed. “Night, Dick.”

“Night.”

“And hey, boy genius, don’t forget to eat your wheaties tomorrow!” Jason called teasingly after him as he exited the room, chuckling as Dick threw a mumbled retort back at him that he was pretty sure neither Bruce nor Alfred would approve of.

Jason had been surprised to learn that Dick was something of a math genius. The Dick from his world was smart, but not genius level smart. Jason enjoyed teasing Dick about his slightly nerdy side. It was fun, a lot like having a kid brother.

The thought sobered him. _Got to stop thinking like that,_ Jason scolded himself. _You’re not staying!_

 _Why not?_ The thought that had been scratching away in the back of his head for days clawed its way to the surface. _Why shouldn’t you stay?_

There was nothing for him in his own world. Here he had something. _I don’t belong here!_ Jason reminded himself.

 _So?_ the voice persisted.

In an effort to escape the discomfiting thoughts, Jason decided to go to the cave and spar with some of the training machines. He hadn’t had a good work out in days. Combine that with Alfred’s delicious cooking and he would turn into a serious lard-ass if he wasn’t careful.

However, all thoughts of a work-out disappeared from his mind as he descended into the cave and found Bruce in his Batman garb, cowl pulled back, pouring over data on the computer.

“Didn’t know you were back,” Jason greeted him.

“Didn’t know you were up,” Bruce returned.

Touchy. “Lost track of time playing chess with Dick. He’s gone to bed now,” Jason added, at a look from Bruce.

“Good. He has an exam tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that math thing. Wouldn’t worry, he’ll nail it.” Jason joined Bruce by the computer. “Want to tell me what’s eating you?”

“There’s a new player in Gotham.”

“New player, huh?” Jason was surprised he had actually answered the question. “Who?”

“I don’t know. But whoever they are, they’re leaving a bloody trail right through the city.”

Bruce picked up the file beside him and handed it to Jason. He flicked through it, his stomach churning slightly at the images within: a man in a suit with his organs removed, two police officers with gunshots to both eyes, and a woman without her head that on closer inspection was revealed to have been blown off not cut off. Not wanting to see anymore, Jason closed the file. “So, new psychopath with a thing for gore. What do we know?”

“Not a lot. The murders started last Saturday night with a scientist at Gotham University. He was working late in the lab and someone force fed him Sodium Hydroxide.”

“Lye,” said Jason and grimaced. What a way to go. “How do you know all the murders are connected? Is there a signature?”

“Somebody has been leaving a Joker card at all the scenes, but the Joker is still incarcerated at Bell Reve.” Bruce scowled. “I checked.”

“So somebody is imitating a homicidal clown. Peachy. How many killings have there been?”

“Nine.”

“ _Nine?!_ It’s only been four days!”

“Glad you appreciate the seriousness of the situation.”

“Do the police have any leads?”

“No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing. They’ve been keeping the killings out of the news but after this evening, they won’t be able to keep a lid on this for much longer.”

Reluctantly, Jason opened the folder again and spread the pictures along the computer console. “What order were these murders committed in?”

Bruce rearranged the photos and pointed to the man with his organs removed. “This man was the first, he was a Surgeon.” He moved to a picture of a man whose brains had been beaten in with what looked like a Gavel. “This murder was committed tonight. It’s Judge Watkins, one of Gotham’s hardliners. This will make the papers tomorrow.”

“We had a Judge Watkins in my Gotham too,” Jason told him, frowning. “Joker murdered him four years ago.” He looked back down at the pictures. The one of the woman without her head jumped out at him and he picked it up. “Who was this?”

Bruce glanced at it. “Selina Arklow, a Psychiatrist.”

“So, we have a Surgeon with his organs removed, a Judge who had his head beaten in with a Gavel and a Psychiatrist whose head exploded – do all the other victims deaths have the same sick punch line?”

“Yes.”

Jason looked back down at the pictures. “I guess this is why you haven’t been letting Robin out?”

Bruce nodded, his expression tight. “I’d rather he wasn’t exposed to such brutality.”

“Don’t blame you.” Jason studied Selina Arklow’s picture again. Something was nagging at him about this one but he didn’t know why. “With Robin benched, it looks like Batman could use some help.”

“Are you offering?”

Jason looked up. “I guess I am. Is that okay with you?”

“If I agree, we do this my way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No killing people.” Jason waved a hand at Bruce and returned his attention to Selina Arklow. What was bothering him so much about this killing?

He didn’t know it yet, but Jason’s past was about to invade this reality in the most brutal way possible.


	7. Chapter 7

For the next few nights, Jason didn’t see much of Dick as he patrolled Gotham with Batman. He promised Dick he would make it up to him at the weekend and that they would finally get a chance to spar together, but that still didn’t stop him from feeling bad at the sight of Dick’s forlorn figure as he and Batman left the cave each evening. Jason didn’t want Dick out on patrol as Robin, especially while some psychopathic maniac was wreaking havoc on unsuspecting Gothamites, but neither was he happy with the idea of Dick feeling left out.

Also weighing heavily on his mind was the murder of Selina Arklow. Something about her murder was lodged in his brain, something important, but whatever it was remained elusive. Always just on the cusp of his thoughts, out of reach; yet near enough to scratch tauntingly at something in his memory. It was bloody frustrating.

By the time Friday evening rolled around, they were no closer to discovering who was committing the brutal murders in Gotham. Moreover, the media had gotten wind of the Joker cards at the murder scenes and were having a field day with what they called the ‘Joker Copycat.’

Jason was decidedly unhappy about that. One Joker was enough in any reality, two was a hideous nightmare, and the escapades of this wannabe were frighteningly near to the clown from his own world.

His mind stretched once more towards the image of Selina Arklow…what the hell was he missing?

“Tea, sir?” Alfred’s voice sounded beside him and he looked up into the warm, slightly concerned face of the butler.

Jason smiled. Alfred always knew just the right moment to deliver a much needed break. “Thanks, Alfred,” he said, accepting a steaming mug from the man.

“Find anything on patrol last night?” Dick’s voice sounded behind them.

Jason quickly closed the file in front of him and turned in the swivel chair with a smile. “Hey, kiddo, how was school?”

“School was school. Your deflection sucks, by the way.”

“How so?”

“First, totally obvious that you're avoiding the question. Second? Dude, if you’re gonna deflect than at least do it with something more interesting than school!”

Jason’s lips twitched. Brat.

“So, what happened on patrol last night?” Dick demanded, coming up beside Jason and reaching for the file.

Jason slapped a hand onto the little brown folder. “I don’t think so! Just ‘cause Bruce and I told you what’s going on doesn’t mean you have to see the gory details.”

Dick huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. “You only told me because it’s all over the news. I wish you’d both stop treating me like a kid, you know I can handle it.”

Jason blinked. Was Dick…pouting at him? He chuckled. _Teenagers._

“It’s not funny, Jason!”

The boy looked hurt and Jason sobered. “Sorry, Dick, that’s not what I was laughing at.” He leaned towards him. “Bruce and I both know that you’re not just any kid, but there are some things that you just don’t want to share with people because it’s like forcing them to eat cockroaches fried in puke, and who wants to do that to someone they care about? Dick, we haven’t even shared the details of these killings with Alfred.” He waved a hand in the direction of the butler who was listening nearby.

“And I would be very grateful if you would endeavour to keep it that way, sir,” he interjected.

Jason grinned at him and turned back to Dick. “It’s not that we don’t think you’re capable, it’s just that we don’t want to force you to eat fried cockroaches and puke.”

Dick wasn’t buying the metaphor. “I could help.” 

“And once we have a lead on who this guy is, maybe you can,” Jason told him. Privately, he knew that he would never let Dick within an asses’ roar of this man.

Dick was eyeing him sceptically as if he knew that was exactly what Jason was thinking. But he wasn’t given the chance to argue further because at that moment, Bruce entered the cave. “Computer, Gotham news!” he barked.

The computer responded, flickering to life and filling the screen with an image of a burning building. Jason gave a sharp intake of breath. “Where is that?”

“Gotham General,” answered Bruce shortly.

“Think it’s our boy?”

“Probably. News reports indicate that hundreds of Joker cards were blown into the air when the explosion went off.”

“Guess this guy really digs the Joker,” said Dick quietly.

But Jason was no longer listening. Alarm bells were going off in his head, screaming so loudly it was almost deafening. There was something too familiar about this, about all of this. And suddenly it clicked into place.

“Dear God,” he whispered, his hands tightening on the armrest of the chair. Selina Arklow, Judge Watkins…how could he not have _seen_ it?

“Jason?” Bruce’s hand was on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Jason didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t alright. He was as far from alright as it was possible to get.

“Jason?” Dick was beside him now, those wide, blue eyes looking at him in concern. “Are you okay?”

Jason wanted to grab Dick, to run with him, take him out of Gotham where the most savage man that Jason had ever encountered had clearly taken up residence. With effort, he looked at Bruce. “It’s him,” he croaked.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

Jason nodded and Dick looked between the two of them, confused. “It’s who? What’s going on? Jason?”

Jason swallowed at the confused expression on the young face. No way in hell was he giving the Joker a chance to hurt that innocence. _Man up, Todd!_ “I’m okay, Dick,” he said, placing one hand on the boy’s arm to reassure him. “Just shaken. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Expecting what?”

“Joker.” Jason’s face hardened. “From my reality.”

“He must have crossed through on the same night you did,” said Bruce, as Dick’s eyes widened.

Jason got to his feet. “Doesn’t matter when he crossed through. What matters is getting him back.” _And as far as fuck away from Dick as possible._

“You sure you’re up to this?” Bruce asked, frowning.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay then, suit up.”

Jason was armed and ready in less than five. Joining Batman by the Batmobile, he was surprised and alarmed to find Robin with him. The two of them were arguing.

“But why can’t I go?” Robin demanded furiously.

“Jason and I have this covered. You’re not going, Robin, and that’s my final word.”

“But, Batman, I can help!” Robin turned to Red Hood. “Jason, tell him.”

But Jason couldn’t imagine anything he wanted less in the world right now than Robin joining them. The very idea of the Joker being in the same reality as Dick practically brought on a panic attack, not to talk of them being in the same vicinity. Something icy seized hold of Jason’s heart and squeezed hard as he imagined what Joker would do if he got his hands on Dick. The images that flashed into his mind were enough to nearly stop him breathing.

His fear made his response harsher than he intended. “Hell no! I agree with Batman!”

Robin blinked and his mouth opened slightly. The wounded expression on his face made Jason instantly contrite. “Sorry, Dick, that didn’t come out like I meant.” He placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “This isn’t your Joker. This Joker is a whole other ball game and I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Dick didn’t answer and Jason tried again, feeling bad. “C’mon, kid–“

“Stop calling me kid!” Robin snapped, shaking off Jason’s hand.

“We’re wasting time,” Batman interrupted. “Robin, we’ll discuss this later, but right now this is not up for negotiation. Stay put.” He climbed into the Batmobile and started it up.

Jason looked at the small, angry figure. He wished he could make him understand just how dangerous this Joker was – that given the chance, he would rip Dick apart just for being Robin. Jason wasn’t even sure if this Batman was ready for him. “Try to understand, Dick, this is for your own good. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Robin mumbled, eyes on the floor.

Jason gave his shoulder a comforting pat, before climbing into the car with Batman. As the car peeled out of the cave, he gave one last glance at the figure watching them.

oOo

Jason used the journey into Gotham to educate Batman on the Joker’s past and explain how he had worked out that it was the Joker from his world who had been rampaging through Gotham.

“I should have seen it sooner,” he told Batman. “It was Selina Arklow; I knew there was something about her! Back in my world, she was a psychiatrist in Arkham assigned to the Joker. It was before my time, but I remember the story. She spent a couple of months psychoanalyzing him until he managed to break out. One of the first things he did was find her, shove explosives down her throat and blow her head off.”

“Same as Selina here,” concluded Batman grimly.

Jason nodded. “Word was that she came pretty close to cracking him in one of their sessions. Of course, after that, there wasn’t a single psychiatrist in Gotham who would work with the Joker.”

“And Judge Watkins?”

“Sentenced the Joker to hard labour in Gotham Penitentiary as opposed to his usual cushy number in Arkham. Took a full year before he was able to break out of the maximum security wing.”

“So he’s going after everyone in this reality that he believes wronged him in his own. What about the hospital?”

Jason’s expression behind the mask was tight. “Sick as it sounds, I think this is his way of showing Gotham that he’s not just a copycat, but the real deal. There was a Joker impersonator in the other Gotham a few years ago that disappeared. We never found a body but Batman always guessed the Joker had something to do with it. He doesn’t like competition.”

“It seems he doesn’t like a lot of things.”

“He likes plenty of things. Just not what normal people like,” Jason answered shortly. Gotham city limits were coming into view and he could feel his adrenaline spike. _This ends tonight,_ he promised himself.

As they cruised into the city, they were met with scenes of utter chaos. Several streets had been closed off and police were trying to keep back the Gotham city dwellers who were trying to get past the barricades. Jason guessed they were trying to get to the hospital to find out about loved ones and felt sick. The Joker had only been in this reality for a week and already he was able to wreak this level of carnage and chaos. If they couldn’t catch him and send him back, would this Gotham become as hopeless as the other? Jason didn’t like to think about what that meant for Bruce or Dick.

Batman guided the car into a nearby alleyway. “We’re not going to get through the city in this chaos. It’s time to go up.”

“Agreed.”

Within seconds, they were out of the car and travelling through the upper levels of the city. It was just like old times and Jason had to swallow the slightly bitter pang of nostalgia that flowed through him. _Not your world, not your Batman._

Travelling through the air, it didn’t take them long to reach Gotham General. As their feet touched the ground, Jason felt like he had landed in the middle of a war zone. The hospital was a raging inferno, flames soaring thirty feet into the night sky. There were at least twenty fire-trucks surrounded by frantic fire-fighters trying to battle the blaze and keep it from spreading while saving as many people as they could. The police were struggling to keep the grief-stricken relatives who had made it past the other barricades from rushing forward and getting in the fire-fighters’ way, or worse putting themselves in harm’s way. An area just behind the fire-trucks had been set up for survivors. It was a frantic hive of activity as doctors and nurses worked to stabilize patients and transport them to other hospitals. Jason guessed that every nurse or doctor in Gotham not caught in the blast or standing by in other hospitals was here tonight helping.

“Batman!” he heard a voice yell and turned. Commissioner Gordon was hurrying towards them. He saw the man’s eyes narrow suspiciously at him and the officer’s hand brushed his gun. It would appear that even in this reality, Red Hood was a known criminal.

Batman held out a hand. “Relax, Jim, he’s a friend.”

“Friend, huh? Pretty unusual look for a crime fighter.”

Jason shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t do capes and tights.”

“What’s happening, Jim?” Batman’s voice was low and tight, drawing Gordon’s suspicious glare away from Jason. “How bad is this?”

“Bad. The blast decimated the entire west wing of the hospital! There were no survivors. And to make matters worse, the fire is spreading faster then we can evacuate the rest of the hospital!” Gordon turned a grim face towards the burning building. “Who is this lunatic?”

“The most dangerous man you’ll ever meet,” Jason answered shortly.

Gordon looked at him. “He says he’s the Joker.”

“He is,” Batman replied. “But we don’t have time to explain how. Red Hood, you know him best, would Joker stay to watch the chaos?”

“Sick son-of-a-bitch would consider his time wasted if he didn’t.”

“So he has to be nearby somewhere,” Batman concluded.

“Where’s the best vantage point?” Jason growled.

“This way.”

They were gone before Commissioner Gordon could stop them.

Jason could feel his anger growing as he followed Batman through the upper levels of the city once more. He swallowed, trying to get a handle on his rage, knowing that losing control around the Joker could cost him. And this time, there was even more at stake.

Suddenly, a building just ahead exploded, sending Batman hurling into the wall of the opposite building. Because he had been behind Batman, Jason was able to divert himself out of the path of the blast, but was still unable to prevent himself from being tossed violently.

“BATMAN!” he yelled, twisting in midair to regain his balance, his eyes locked on the plummeting figure of the Dark Knight. Batman moved quickly, firing a line at the nearest lamppost and whirling around the upper bar to slow his momentum before landing neatly on the ground.

Jason joined him quickly. “You okay?”

“Awwww, isn’t that sweet?” a maddeningly familiar sounded just above them. “He’s all concerned about his Batty. Did you boys kiss and make up?”

Jason looked up to see the Joker leaning over the edge of the roof of the building next to them. “Joker.”

“The one and only. Miss me, Bird Boy?”

“Like a hole in the head!” Jason spat, and aimed his gun at the clown who withdrew slightly, cackling madly.

“I wouldn’t do that, Bird Brain, can’t you smell it?”

“Smell what?” Jason snapped, keeping his gun aimed until Batman’s hand forced him to lower it.

“Kerosene. He’s doused this whole building in it. You discharge that gun and it will go up like a powder keg.”

“Very good, Batman, but I guess that’s why you’re the boss.”

“So the building blows with you in,” Jason stated. “I’m not seeing a problem here.”

“You may not see a problem, but the nice people locked in the apartment below me might take offence if you blow them up.” Joker smiled at him. “I’m sure you of _all_ people know how much it hurts.”

Jason clenched a fist and a low snarl escaped his throat.

Batman placed a hand warningly on his arm, an action that did not go unnoticed by the Joker. “Oh how cute! They’ve bonded! No killing for this Bats, mmmm, Bird Boy?”

“Go to hell!” Jason snapped, unable to stop himself. The clown knew all the right buttons to push to get under his skin.

The Joker shook his head sadly. “You birdies are so much less fun when you grow up. Are those big boy pants too tight, is that it?”

This time Jason stayed quiet.

The Joker sighed. “And we used to have such fun together.” He examined his nails. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hello to Bats here and announce myself to this new Gotham. I think I’m going to like it here – the people are so much more…trusting.”

“You won’t be staying,” Batman told him.

“Oooo, he spoke to me. And I was beginning to think you didn’t like me!” The Joker cackled while Batman scowled and crossed his arms. “No sense of humour in this world either?”

“Or maybe you’re just not funny!” Jason snapped.

“Awww, Hoodie, I’m hurt that you don’t think I’m funny. Maybe you need a little reminder?”

Suddenly, one of the buildings several feet away exploded, showering them with sparks and debris. Red Hood and Batman dived to the ground and despite what was happening, Jason felt a tiny spark of happiness when Batman used his cape to shield him. They clambered to their feet. The building up the street was now on fire and Jason was horrified to see people at the windows, signaling for help. Adding to the problem were the flames licking their way up the walls of the building beside them – some of the sparks had ignited the kerosene.

“I’ve got this building, you get them!” Batman ordered. “Go!”

Jason tore up the street. Some people were already clambering down the rickety fire-escape but there was a gaping hole where the fire-escape should have led to the two upper floors, and three people were waving desperately for help from one of the windows. Quickly, he fired a line to the roof of the building, using it to propel himself upwards before smashing through a window into the uppermost room and startling the trapped men inside.

Ignoring them, he fired a second line down to fire escape of the building opposite and secured it at his end. He only had two portable iron bars on him. They would have to do. “Quickly!” he ordered the two largest men. “Use the bar to slide down the rope to the fire escape on the building opposite!”

“I-I can’t do that!” the fatter man stammered, as the other one took the proffered bar and prepared to jump.

“It’s either that or stay and burn!” Jason snapped.

Gulping and sweating, the man watched as his friend used the iron bar to slide swiftly along the rope towards the building opposite and land awkwardly on the fire escape.

“Your turn,” said Jason shortly, handing the man the other bar.

Whimpering, the man took one look at the flames licking their way across the floor towards him and sat on the window ledge. “I can’t! I’m…I’m gonna fall!”

Jason wanted to slap him. The man was wasting precious time! “You drop – you break a leg, maybe two. Bones heal. You think recovering from a fiery death is easy?!”

The man had no way of knowing just how much Jason understood that statement to be true. He looked back at the flames which were slowly coming closer then closed his eyes and turned out the window. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” he screamed, allowing himself to drop off the ledge and sliding swiftly towards the building opposite. He screamed like a girl the whole way and hit the wall with a smash. His friend helped him to his feet.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Jason in amusement. “Fat ass did it!”

Quickly, he cut the line to prevent the fire from catching on the rope and travelling to the other building. He turned to the final occupant of the room: a teenage boy no older than fifteen or sixteen.

“Is there anyone else on this floor?”

The kid shook his head. “Everyone else slept on the lower levels because Jack snored so loudly.” He glanced out the window. “How are we gonna get out?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got more than one trick up my sleeve.” Firing another line to the lamppost on the street below, he grabbed the boy around the waist and perched on the window ledge. “Okay, kid, hang on!”

He jumped just as the floor started to creak. Hurtling downwards, Jason twisted in the air and spun around the lamppost to slow their momentum in a move similar to the one Batman had executed earlier. His feet hit the ground with a hard thump and he put the boy down.

The teenager stared at him with wide eyes. “You saved my life!” He threw his arms around Jason. “Thank you!”

“Whoa, kid, it’s no big deal.”

The boy let him go. “It is a big deal!” he insisted. “You’re a hero!”

By now, the other two men he had rescued had climbed down from the fire escape and joined them, adding their thanks to the mix. Jason tried to shrug it off, feeling a little awkward. It had been a long time since anyone had called him a hero and much as he hated to admit it, it felt pretty good.

“Whatever,” he said gruffly. He spotted Batman exiting the other building. “Look, you guys call the fire brigade and get yourselves to a shelter tonight, okay?”

They nodded, waving after him and still calling their thanks as he jogged over to Batman.

“Is everyone okay?” asked Batman.

“I think so. The building was abandoned, just a couple of squatters inside. The kid back there thinks everyone got out. What about here, everyone make it out okay?”

Batman nodded.

“Where’s Joker?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?” Jason was surprised. “Not like him not to stick around – Joker likes to watch.”

“You think he might still be around here?”

“I’d bet my life on it!” Jason growled.

Almost two hours later, Jason was forced to admit that he would have lost that bet. After searching the surrounding area thoroughly, they found no sign of the Joker. They did uncover several incendiary devices indicating that he had intended to blow up more buildings, but the clown himself had vanished. Jason was troubled. It wasn’t like the Joker to just vanish in the middle of the chaos he had created, especially not when he had more bombs up his sleeve. Joker only retreated if trapped with no more cards to play, and he had been far from trapped two hours ago.

“Ready to go home?” Batman joined him. He had just radioed Commissioner Gordon to warn him of more bombs within the city. “Commissioner Gordon is going to deploy the bomb squad to sweep every major building in the city.”

Jason didn’t move, his eyes scanning the empty streets around him. He wasn’t ready to go just yet; something about this didn’t feel right.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like this. Where did he go? Joker wouldn’t just vanish like that, not when he knew he had half the buildings on this block rigged to blow and could play us like fiddles!”

“You think he has something else planned?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Jason frowned. “But then why rig all those other buildings?”

“Maybe it was a plan B in case we cornered him?”

Jason gave a bitter laugh. “Joker doesn’t need to be cornered to blow stuff up! No way he didn’t plant those explosives and not plan to set them off.”

Batman frowned. “So something he didn’t expect must have happened.”

“Exactly! That’s what’s bothering me: what could have happened to distract Joker enough not to blow things up?!”

“I don’t know. And I don’t like it any more than you do, but we’re not going to find any answers tonight. Joker is long gone and we should get back. We need to rest and make a plan if we’re going to catch this maniac.”

Feeling like a quitter, Jason had to admit that Batman was right.

oOo

Alfred was waiting for them when they got back to the cave. “I take it tonight’s exploits were unsuccessful?”

“Unfortunately,” Batman replied.

Jason didn’t answer, he was too disheartened. The idea of that lunatic rampaging through a Gotham that was totally unprepared for him left Jason sick to his soul. Frustrated, he removed his masks.

“I wouldn’t worry, sir,” said Alfred gently, coming up beside him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I have no doubt that you will apprehend the Joker soon.”

Jason gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, Alfred.” Then he realized something. “Where’s Dick?”

“I’m afraid the young sir was rather put out after you both left. He watched the news for a while and then retired to bed. I checked on him a little while ago – he’s sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Jason repeated and Alfred nodded.

“Yes, he– Master Jason, what’s wrong?” Alfred demanded as Jason rushed past him and up the stairs to the house.

Jason had a bad feeling about this. Dick had been pissed when they left. Angry teenagers didn’t just go to bed and sleep. Angry teenagers waited up to yell at the people they were mad at…or disobeyed them.

Jason took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding and the blood rushing in his ears. _Please be in bed, please be in bed!_

Dick could be as pissed as he liked at him just so long as he was in bed.

He reached the boy’s room and threw open the door, ignoring the crash it made as it bounced off the wall. He flicked on the light switch but the figure in the bed never moved. Striding over to the bed, Jason threw back the covers. His heart plummeted when he saw the pillows bunched up to look like a sleeping figure and an anguished moan escaped him.

Jason knew exactly what had caused the Joker to disappear tonight. The one thing in the world that appealed to him more than blowing up buildings – a little bird to torture.


	8. Chapter 8

Robin watched the Batmobile pull out with a mixture of anger, hurt and frustration. He wasn’t just some kid! He’d proven to Batman over the last few years that he was more than capable of doing this job, and he’d spent the last few months going on missions with the team without any adult supervision.

He stalked over to the computer where Alfred was watching him sympathetically. “Master Dick, you do know that Master Bruce and Master Jason only have your best interests at heart?”

“I know, Alfred, but why do they have to treat me like a little kid?” he replied, his eyes on the news bulletin that was still playing.

Alfred put a hand on his shoulder. “You may not like to hear this, lad, but you are only thirteen. It’s normal that they would want to keep you away from certain criminals.”

“But my age hasn’t been a problem since I was ten! Batman has always trusted me till now.”

“You mean until Master Jason appeared?”

Robin nodded, wondering if Batman no longer needed him now that he had Red Hood. After all, Red Hood was older and had more experience. Feeling very small and insignificant, he hugged his arms to himself.

Alfred seemed to guess what was bothering him. “I highly doubt that Batman would retire Robin just because there is a new crime fighter to aid him, but I imagine the appearance of the man who killed Robin in Master Jason’s world would be enough to frighten him into wanting you to stay here where you would be safe?”

“But that’s just it, Alfred! Batman is assuming I’m going to get in trouble. He’s never done that before – he’s always trusted me.”

“It never occurred to him that you could be killed before,” Alfred pointed out gently. “But I’m afraid Master Jason’s history has brought some uncomfortable truths home to Master Bruce.” 

Robin continued to stare at the computer, his heart sinking. Alfred was right. Batman had never worried before because he’d never really been given a reason to worry. Jason’s appearance in their world had changed all that.

_But I’m not Jason and I’m not going to die! I just need to prove that to Batman._

The bones of a plan began to form in Robin’s mind, although he doubted very much that Alfred would approve, which would mean the stealth option: sneaking out. But that was okay – he could do covert.

“Alfred, I don’t really feel much like talking now if that’s okay. Would you mind if I go to my room?”

Alfred gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Of course, sir. Would you like me to bring you some hot chocolate?”

Robin gave him a small smile. “No thanks, Alfred.”

It took longer then he had anticipated to change out of his costume, get upstairs, set up his bed and sneak back downstairs – mostly because Alfred hovered in the hallway outside dusting, like he suspected Dick of sneaking out. But eventually, the butler went downstairs to answer the phone, allowing Dick to creep down to the cave and change back into Robin. It was with a certain sense of guilt that he guided the R-cycle in the direction of Gotham. He had never misled Alfred before.

Robin arrived in Gotham and found the same chaos that Batman and Red Hood had encountered just a short time before. Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to travel through the city on his bike, he pulled into an alley and activated the holographic computer in his glove. He guessed that Batman would be somewhere in the vicinity of Gotham General, but he wanted to triangulate with the tracker in Batman’s utility belt just to be sure. The tracker revealed Batman’s location to be several blocks west of the hospital, in one of Gotham’s less than savoury areas where most of the buildings were either abandoned or condemned.

Robin set off in that direction, hoping Batman wouldn’t be too angry – he was disobeying a direct order after all. But then, Bruce hadn’t punished him too harshly for the Cadmus incident a few weeks ago, which had proven to the entire Justice League that they were capable of operating on their own.

Exhilarated and apprehensive, Robin landed on the roof of one of the taller buildings leading into the area where Batman was. But before he could take stock of his surroundings, the ground shook slightly as an explosion went off at the other end of the street. Hurrying to the edge of the roof, Robin was alarmed to see people waving for help from the upper windows of a burning building. He was about to go to their aid when he saw Jason running in that direction. Batman was entering another building with flames slowly flickering up the side.

Robin was deciding who to help first when he was distracted by a man in purple crashing out a window at the back of the building that Batman had just entered. _Joker! He’s getting away!_

Without thinking, Robin swung after him. He could hear the man’s high pitched cackle as he swooped lower before dropping on him and sending him crashing to the ground, then tumbling away out of arm’s reach.

“Why, Batsy,” the clown chuckled, dusting himself off as he got to his feet. “I didn’t expect you to come after me in favour of rescuing–” He stopped talking and went very still as he caught sight of Robin. A slow smile spread across his face. “Well, well, where have they been hiding _you_?”

Robin didn’t answer, shifting into a defensive stance. He wasn’t stupid: he knew this man was dangerous. He was going to be very careful and prove to Batman that he could do this. No more kid gloves.

Joker laughed. “Aren’t you just adorable? I suppose you’re going to bring me in?” He held his two wrists out together and Robin scowled. The cackling grew even louder. “Oh my, he even has a little glare just like Batsy! This is too perfect!” He dropped his hands to the side when Robin didn’t respond. “What’s the matter, little birdie? Shy?”

Robin caught the flash of metal dropping from inside his jacket sleeve seconds before the Joker swung, and flipped backwards, narrowly avoiding being smashed in the ribs with a crowbar. He landed several feet away and quickly flung an exploding bat-a-rang at Joker which he smacked away with the crowbar.

“Oooooo,” the clown squealed in delight. “Itty bitty birdie knows how to play!”

Robin gritted his teeth. Dear God that voice was annoying!

“You and I are going to have so much fun together,” Joker told him. “We’re going to play all sorts of games.”

“Sorry, I only hang out with the cool kids!”

Joker clapped his hands. “You see? This is why the little birds are the most fun; they have a sense of humour!”

He charged suddenly and Robin flipped again, but the clown was faster than he had anticipated and he felt the bar smack down hard on his back. He landed awkwardly and twisted sideways, just avoiding another swing of the crowbar. Okay, Joker was a lot faster than he’d anticipated.

Robin flung three more bat-a-rangs at him. The clown ducked while swinging the crowbar, batting one back in Robin’s direction and forcing him to flatten himself against the pavement. He snapped quickly to his feet and retreated slightly, studying the Joker. Bat-a-rangs weren’t going to work on this clown – he was too fast – and Robin wasn’t stupid enough to engage him in close combat.

But the Joker wasn’t about to give him a choice in that matter and charged again. Robin catapulted over the clown’s head, using his leverage to land a hard drop-kick that sent the man crashing to the ground.

He got back to his feet, smiling dangerously. “Hoo, looks like this little birdie can fly.” Whirling the crowbar, he rushed forward once more. Robin responded by flipping out of his reach…except this time Joker kept coming and he was forced to produce his escrima sticks in an effort to deflect the now violently swinging crowbar.

 _So much for no close combat!_ Robin thought, clenching his teeth as the crowbar clanged off one of his sticks, sending vibrations shuddering through him. He ducked as another swing almost took his head off and countered with a stinging blow to Joker’s abdomen that caused the clown’s cackling laughter to come out in wheezing gasps.

Heart starting to pound a little now, Robin crouched down and delivered a sweeping kick that Joker jumped backwards to avoid. He used the slight opening to once more flip out of Joker’s reach, landing in a defensive position with his escrima sticks at the ready.

This time the Joker didn’t attack, merely smiled while stroking his chin. “You know, kiddo, I could play tag all night with you, but I really don’t have time before Batman or the hoodie come looking, so we’re just going to have to cut this short, okay?” With lightning speed he threw a handful of marbles at Robin, which exploded on impact, enveloping the boy in a noxious gas. Coughing, Robin flipped backwards several times in an effort to distance himself before it overcame him, but it was highly potent and he stumbled, feeling his head start to spin and his limps get heavy.

Wavering slightly, Robin gripped the sticks and swung them at the approaching purple suit. Joker twisted, hooting wildly. Something silver flashed through the smoke and Robin threw a stick upwards to defend himself. The crowbar clanged off the escrima stick just as a hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Robin kicked out and was rewarded by an “oomph” of pain from the Joker, before being slammed into the ground and pinned. The world was really spinning now making him feel like he was going to tip right off the edge. He struggled but his efforts were feeble. 

“Lights out, Bird Boy!” Joker sniggered and a vicious blow cracked off his skull, sending Robin reeling into darkness.

oOo

“Jesus, Bruce, this is a waste of time! We need to get out there now!” Jason slammed a fist down on the table beside the computer where Bruce was frantically searching the city schematics for abandoned buildings, warehouse and storage facilities within Gotham. Jason had told him that Joker would take Robin somewhere private, somewhere no one could hear the boy scream.

Bruce fixed him with a ferocious glare. “Gotham is a big city and we are NOT wasting time rushing out there without a clue where we’re going. Dick is the nearest thing I have to a son and you are not the only one who is worried about him, so _pull yourself together!_ ”

The frantic worry in Bruce’s dark eyes broke through some of Jason’s blind panic. “Sorry.”

“Make yourself useful and start searching the east side schematics,” Bruce told him shortly.

Jason did as he was bid, although he had to force himself to concentrate past the painful pounding of his heart and the shrill whine of panic going off in his head.

After discovering that Dick was not in his room, Bruce had checked for the R-cycle and Dick’s Robin costume. Finding both missing he immediately activated the trackers in Robin’s utility belt and the computer in his glove. Both had been disabled. Once Jason had informed him of what Joker was most likely to do, he had begun scanning the city schematics while Alfred had gone to call someone called Clark.

Jason’s hand trembled as he downloaded the address of at least thirty buildings that fit Joker’s requirements. God knows how many Bruce had. It would take hours to search them all…hours Dick didn’t have.

Jason didn’t believe in prayer but he prayed now, desperate for Dick to be okay.

A very strained looking Alfred returned to the cave. “Sir, Mr. Kent and Mr. Allen are both off world at the moment. Ms. Lance informed me that it will be several hours before they return.”

Bruce’s head snapped up. “What?! But we need someone fast who knows Gotham!”

“I anticipated that, sir and took the liberty of calling–”

“What happened to Rob?!” a panicked voice cried, and Jason jumped a foot into the air as Wally appeared beside him suddenly.

“Jeez, don’t DO that, kid!”

“Whatsgoingon? Where’s Dick?” Wally demanded.

“We think the Joker from Jason’s world has him,” Bruce replied, face pale and eyes tight. “We don’t have a lot of time; can you start checking some of these addresses?”

He was just handing the addresses he had printed to Wally when Jason snatched the paper out of his hands. “Hell no! Another kid out after Joker? Are you for real?! What about this Super Club you’re a member of?”

“Wally has super speed and he knows Gotham. He can do this faster than any League member other than Flash and Superman, who aren’t available. All he has to do is check these buildings for Robin, you and I will take the Joker down.”

Jason scowled. Much as he didn’t like it, Bruce’s plan made sense.

Bruce turned back to Wally and handed him a communicator. “Keep in contact. Jason and I will be right behind you. And, Wally? Stealth mode.”

The teenager nodded, pulling a pair of red goggles over his eyes and then touching a finger to his chest. Jason blinked as his clothes morphed from bright yellow and red into grey and black. He hardly had time to marvel before the boy was gone, leaving just a blast of wind behind.

Bruce pulled the cowl over his head. “Alfred, with everything that’s happening in Gotham tonight Leslie may not be at the clinic. See if you can track her down and ask her to stand by. We may need her.” 

The butler nodded, looking grimmer than Jason had ever seen either Alfred look.

Batman turned to Jason. “Are you ready?”

The younger man nodded, snatching his masks off the table and hurrying to the car after Batman.

_Hang on Dick, we’re coming!_

oOo

Someone was humming. That was the first thing that Robin became aware of. The second was that he was lying on his side on very hard ground, with his arms pulled uncomfortably behind him. Keeping his eyes closed and feigning unconsciousness, he assessed his predicament.

His hands were handcuffed behind his back. No, not handcuffs – manacles: thick bands of steel encasing his wrists with no more than an inch of chain between them. His heart sank when he realized that another set of manacles pinned his upper arms together just above his elbows, making it impossible to maneuver his hands in front of him. Just where the heck had Joker managed to get _manacles_ anyway?

He attempted to access the lock-picks in his gloves, almost groaning aloud when his fingers met nothing but skin. This Joker was smart enough to not only remove his utility belt, but his gloves as well. Further investigation revealed that his boots were also missing and his ankles were tied together. Robin’s heartbeat quickened when he realized just how well and truly screwed he really was.

“Come on, Bird Boy, no more playing possum!” a sing song voice echoed above him and a finger poked him hard.

Reluctantly, Robin opened his eyes to reveal the grinning face of Joker crouched over him. “So, little birdie, are we all refreshed and ready to play after our nap, mmm?”

Robin just scowled.

“Oh dear, a little cranky after naptime, are we?” the clown cackled gleefully and Robin longed to put a fist through that grin. “Never mind, pumpkin, some fun games won’t be long cheering you up!”

Robin seriously doubted any of Joker’s games would have a positive effect on his mood.

The Joker tapped a finger against his chin. “Let’s see, what should we play first? Oh, oh! I know – hide and seek! You hide and I’ll count to fifty. But just to make it a little more interesting…” Joker’s voice dropped, becoming more threatening as he leaned in closer. The sound of something hard scraped slowly along the floor and he pulled a baseball bat from behind him. “If I find you, I use you as batting practice.”

Robin swallowed as Joker reached into his breast pocket and produced a switchblade, using it to cut the ropes that bound his feet. Then he stood up. “I won’t peek,” Joker promised, covering his eyes and starting to count.

Robin didn’t waste any time. He rolled onto his knees, scrambling quickly to his feet and started to run. His sharp eyes took in his surroundings as he did so: they were in a large storage warehouse filled with dust-covered furniture, piled in untidy heaps and scattered throughout the vast space. The whole place smelt musty and dank, with feeble lighting.

Robin raced along by the wall, his best chance for discovering an exit quickly. His heartbeat quickened when he spied a small door several feet away and he hurried towards it. With his arms pinned as they were, Robin wasted several precious seconds just trying to turn the handle and groaned with frustration when he found the door locked. _Did you really think it would be that easy?_

He continued searching. Just trying to turn the handle had been hard enough, there was no way he could pick that lock, even if he could find something to do it with. He had only gone a few yards when there was a loud yell and something slammed into him sending him reeling into a set of chairs.

“That wasn’t fifty seconds!” he cried before he could stop himself. Had he honestly expected the clown to play fair?

“What can I say? I didn’t count mississippily!” Joker declared happily, raising the bat and swinging hard.

Robin tried to jerk out of the way, but his pinned arms were throwing his balance off and the bat smashed into his right arm. His body had barely registered the pain when an even stronger blow was delivered to his ribs, sending shockwaves of pain rolling through him. Desperately he spun away, trying to avoid a third strike, but the baseball bat crashed into his back, sending him to the floor.

Blows rained down on him and Robin curled inwards in a futile attempt to protect himself. Explosions of agony ricocheted through him with each whack of the bat, leaving him writhing and gasping for breath. And as Joker brought the bat smashing down in a particularly violent blow to his ribs, a horrible crunching noise sounded, resulting in pain so excruciating that Robin let out a cry of distress.

The blows finally stopped but the pain didn’t. Robin tried very hard not to move in an effort to ease the agony. Joker dropped beside him, placing a hand on either side of his head and bringing his face close to Robin’s.

Robin gave a slight gasp and turned his head away as Joker’s putrid breath assaulted him, making him feel sick.

The Joker gave the high pitched giggle that had irritated Robin so much in the beginning, but was now beginning to scare him. “Awww, what’s the matter? Is the itty bitty birdie not having any fun?”

“Bite me!” Robin ground out.

“Tempting, buuut…” Joker hauled him to his feet and dragged him back into the center of the room. “Let’s just go again!”

“You actually gonna count to fifty this time?”

Joker pinched his cheeks. “Aren’t you just adorable with your little Batman glare? Did daddybats make you practice that in the mirror?” He gave Robin a rough shove that sent him crashing to the floor, then covered his eyes and started to count.

Robin was slower getting to his feet this time. His whole body was on fire as agony raged through him, making his breathing come in punctured, wheezing gasps. He tried to silence them, under no illusions this time: Joker had ensured there was no way out of this room. His only chance was to hide somewhere in the mountains of junk and hope the clown couldn’t find him.

Staggering, but trying to remain as quiet as possible, Robin slipped in behind a large closet that looked like termites were eating it alive and squeezed through the mounds of junk piled precariously alongside it. For the first time in his life, he was glad to be a skinny short-ass as he carefully made his way towards the back wall that the junk had been pushed against without dislodging anything. Reaching it, he leaned his head against the wall and took a few gulping breaths to ease his suffering, before sliding slowly to the floor.

Closing his eyes, Robin tried not to think about how much he hurt. The reality of his situation was pressing in on him. Joker would kill him, slowly, unless someone rescued him. But thanks to his stupid stunt with the bed, no one would even know he was missing until morning. And by then it would be too late.

 _I could die here,_ Robin realized, breathing hitching as cold terror snaked around his heart. He had really screwed up this time, why hadn’t he listened to Batman? To Jason? Robin didn’t want to die like this, alone, hurting and scared.

A loud crash drew his attention. Joker was pulling out furniture, looking for him. He was very near, suspiciously so, and Robin’s heart started to pound. The clown must have watched him disappear behind the closet. The whole counting thing was clearly just a charade to mess with his head. He could have cried with frustration: this wasn’t fair.

More bangs echoed and a chair toppled inwards, almost hitting him. Joker’s smiling face appeared overhead. “Peek-a-boo!”

Ignoring the pain that shuddered through him, Robin scrunched down, trying to evade the grasping fingers. But the clown only shoved more furniture aside, reached in and seized the front of his cape, yanking him out of his hiding place. “Clever little bird to get so far in!”

Robin struggled as Joker once more dragged him back to the centre of the room. Releasing the boy, he bent down to pick up the baseball bat which lay discarded on the floor. Robin could see flecks of blood on it, his blood, and made a desperate attempt to knock the Joker over.

But the clown twisted up from where he was bent forward and drove the handle of the bat into Robin’s stomach. He bent over, gasping, and didn’t see Joker winding up for a brutal hit.

As he straightened up, he heard the clown yell, “FOUR!” A violent explosion of pain shattered him and suddenly Robin was being propelled through the air. He hit the wall with a hard crack and slumped to the ground.

Through the red haze of pain he could hear Joker laughing and crackling. “Little birdie can fly! Little birdie can fly!”

He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Pain was everywhere as convulsive gasps rattled his body. Robin clenched his teeth, trying desperately to breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe? He knew how, it was simple: in and out, in and out. Why couldn’t he breathe? Oh god, it hurt!

Gradually, he was able to draw several short unsatisfying breaths, but he still couldn’t seem to catch his breath properly and that scared him. It meant something was very wrong.

Joker’s shoes appeared by his face and Robin closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look at the clown right now. There was a slight _whoosh_ and he knew Joker was crouched beside him once more. “Awwww, is poor ickle baby bird not feeling well?” asked the clown, patting his cheek with mock sympathy. “Never mind, we’ll play a quieter game.”

Every move hurting, Robin shook his head. No. No more games. He didn’t want to play anymore. He hadn’t wanted to play in the first place.

“Don’t worry, pumpkin, painting won’t take too much effort. I even know where we can get some paint.” The rancid breath was coating his skin again as Joker leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “Wait till you see it, little birdie. It’s the perfect shade of red.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very dark, and very violent.

Robin had no strength left to struggle as Joker dragged him back towards the center of the room. Leaving him propped against a pillar, the clown disappeared. Robin rested his head against the hard concrete, closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. But no matter how many deep breaths he took, he still couldn’t seem to take in enough oxygen to satisfy his lungs. His chest felt tight, as though someone was sitting on it, slowly suffocating him.

“Here we go! So, what do you want to paint first?”

Joker was back. Wearily, Robin opened his eyes to find him crouched in front of him with several sheets of paper clutched in his hand. His expression held a twisted excitement that Robin knew meant nothing good for him. He bared his teeth in a snarl at the clown.

“Awwwwww, you mad at me, little birdie? And after I went to all this trouble to make our play date fun!” Joker pouted, then smiled. “Still, at least I’m having fun.”

Robin’s eyes widened when he produced a very big knife. He thought his heart would hammer right through his chest as the clown fingered the blade. “I think it’s time to channel my inner Picasso.”

Before Robin knew what was happening, Joker yanked his legs, jerking him away from the pillar and causing his body to hit the floor with a hard thump. He gasped as his pinned arms twisted painfully beneath him. Joker smiled, then rolled him onto his stomach.

A strong hand gripped his left arm and a line of fire erupted across it. Robin cried out, trying to pull his arm out of the Joker’s grip. Another blaze of agony opened up across his arm and Robin tugged desperately.

“Now hold still, Robbie or you’ll ruin the picture!” Joker scolded.

Robin realized the demented maniac was using the knife to sketch images on his skin. He groaned and gritted his teeth as two smaller, but equally agonizing strips were scraped into his flesh. The fifth one was by far the worst: it curved in a deep semi-circle, making Robin feel as though the flesh was being carved from his arm and prompted his first actual scream since this whole nightmare had begun.

Joker paused. “Ooooo, what a lovely noise! Let’s see if we can make more of those!”

A series of short, jagged dashes were carved out, making him writhe and gasp. When two sharp stabs were delivered to the arm, Robin’s carefully constructed façade finally broke. “Please stop!” he begged.

“Stop? But we’re almost finished. I just need to sign it.”

_Sign it?!_

“Hmmm,” Joker’s voice sounded thoughtful. “I’m out of room. You have such iiiiiiitty bitty little arms. Never mind, I’ll use the other one.”

“No!” Robin croaked, as Joker let go of that arm and seized the other one. He struggled furiously, not caring that it made his breathing problem worse. He just wanted the pain to stop.

“Relax, little birdie, this won’t take long.”

Joker straddled his thrashing legs and held the right arm tightly, then began to carve his name into the trapped limb. The curved lines were so much worse, tearing and twisting the tender flesh with each excruciating scrape of the knife. Robin screamed into the floor, frantically moving his head to left and right, trying in vain to pull away from the awful pain.

Finally, the Joker finished and sat back to examine his handiwork while Robin lay shaking and trembling on the floor. “That looks good! You should see it, kiddo.”

“Go to hell!” Robin spat.

“You seem angry. You should do a picture. I’ve heard painting is supposed to be really cathartic. Oh, oh! I know! Let’s do a picture for Batman! Any idea what you want to paint?”

Robin remained silent, his forehead pressed into the floor as he took several shuddering, rasping breaths.

“Not feeling any inspiration, huh? Never mind,” Joker leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I’m filled with enough inspiration for the both of us.”

He reached for Robin’s left hand and flattened the palm outwards before drawing the knife across the soft skin. The boy cried out, twisted his hand out of the Joker’s grip and curled both hands into tight fists.

“Now, now, Bird Brain,” Joker cooed. “This is for your picture.” He pulled at the hand trying to flatten it once more, but for every finger he managed to straighten, Robin curled another even more tightly into the fist.

Finally, Joker sighed. “Okay, pumpkin, guess we have to do this the hard way.” He straightened out Robin’s index finger, but instead of releasing it, he snapped it.

Robin cried out as pain shot up his arm from the break. Gasping he turned his head to the left. He could see Joker just out of the corner of his eye – his face a mask of happy concentration as he hummed to himself. Another finger was forced out from the fist and a second shiver of pain shot through him as Joker broke that one too. A third break followed, leaving his fingers limp and twisted.

“Stop!” Robin yelled, immediately dropping both fists if it meant the clown would stop breaking his fingers. Otherwise, he would just break them all and continue with whatever he was doing anyway.

Joker shot him a sly glance. “Smart boy.”

The knife resumed its torturous sketching across the palm of his hand, each etch of the blade causing him to jerk convulsively. The pain was setting off flashes of light behind his eyes and fiery waves of pain lit up his lacerated nerve endings. His vision blurred. Joker moved to the other hand and repeated the torture.

He wasn’t aware of the clown finishing his work. Pain was pulsating through him making him think the knife was still carving a slow path across his skin. It was only when his lower arms flopped sideways after Joker removed the manacles from his wrists that he realized the torment had stopped. Robin tried to move his arms, but they only gave a feeble twitch as pins and needles jostled alongside the pain. He could hear paper rustling and then his left hand was being pressed down hard on something, causing his broken fingers to throb painfully. The explosions had stopped going off behind his eyes and as his vision cleared, he could just see Joker leaning over him and felt the process being repeated with his right hand.

A sheet of paper was shoved in his face, two bright red, glistening handprints stamped in the middle. Robin felt ill at the cruel mockery of what should be an innocent painting.

“Didn’t I tell you I knew where to get the perfect shade of red?” said Joker happily. “We just need to sign it now.”

The paper disappeared. Robin felt the Joker seize one of his fingers and begin to daub at the paper with it. There was a tight pain in his heart and a lump formed in his throat. Would this be his last message to Bruce? He closed his eyes against the suspicious wetness forming there. _I don’t want to die._

Was this what it had felt like for Jason in the last moments before his death? Filled with pain and fear? Robin understood now why Jason had been so overprotective.

“Finished!” Joker’s sing song voice echoed and he thrust the paper into his face again. 

Robin opened his eyes and was unable to stop a solitary tear from sliding down his cheek at the image. Over his handprints was the words, ‘To Batman,’ while under them was written, ‘from Robin.’ The painting was sadistic, cruel and infuriating. It hurt him horribly and he knew it would do the same to Batman. He closed his eyes again as another tear leaked out under the mask.

Joker spotted the tear. “Awwww, are you moved by your piece of art? Hadn’t pegged you as an art aficionado, pumpkin.”

Robin gave a choked sob and stifled the tears. He was going to die, alone and in pain, but he would be damned if he would give this sicko the pleasure of seeing him break down. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes tight, counting to twenty in an effort to get his emotions back under control. When he finally managed to slow his pounding heart and swallow the painful lump in his throat, he opened his eyes and put the last of his strength into giving Joker a furious glare.

The clown shook his head in amusement. “Awwww, the batglare again! I think of all the Bat’s little birds, you might be my favourite. Such a teeny weenie little bird, but so brave!” He leaned forward and ruffled Robin’s hair. “It almost makes me not want to kill you. But only almost.” The hand tightened in his hair. “I think we have time for one more game. Every played doctors and nurses?”

oOo

There was silence in the car as they drove through Gotham. Jason didn’t trust himself to speak and from the tight expression on Batman’s face, he guessed it would be an effort for the man to form words. The clock was counting down and their search so far had been unsuccessful.

They hadn’t yet heard from Wally who was running through Gotham Central and the entire west side in a desperate effort to locate Robin. Jason and Batman had taken the east side. So far they had been to nine different locations without any sign of the boy. Jason swallowed, trying not to think about how much time must have passed since Joker had disappeared and taken Robin with him.

 _Almost four hours,_ a traitorous little voice reminded him and Jason snarled. He didn’t want to think about what Joker was doing to Dick.

They pulled into the next location, an abandoned textile factory. Jason’s heartbeat increased as they leapt from the car, both in fear of what they might find and hope that they would find something.

It didn’t take long to discover there was nothing inside. Jason gave a frustrated cry and kicked a wooden crate in anger, smashing it and sending splinters of wood scattering across the floor. Batman didn’t comment on his reaction, but his rigid body posture as they left the building told the younger man he was in pain. For the first time, Jason considered how it must have felt for his Bruce the night Joker took him: this helplessness, not being able to do anything yet knowing that someone you cared about was suffering somewhere…it was sheer torment.

They reached the car just as Wally contacted them. “Batman, I’ve finished searching those buildings. There’s no sign of Robin.”

Batman closed his eyes. “Rendezvous with us at the old Stabler factory off 49th in the East quadrant.”

The teenager was there in a minute. “How many places are left?” he asked anxiously.

Batman consulted the computer in the Batmobile. “Twenty-nine.”

Wally held out his hands. “Give ‘em.”

Batman printed the list and handed them to Wally. “Start with the furthest out. We’ll keep searching and meet in the middle.”

“Middle, yeah right!” Wally snorted. “I’ll see you in your second location if I don’t find Rob first.”

And with another blast of air, he was gone. Jason had to hand it to Batman: using someone with super speed who actually knew Gotham was faster than using an entire club of superheroes who may have wasted precious time just trying to find the locations.

As the Batmobile pulled out, Jason glanced at the clock and something tight lodged in his throat. Time was literally ticking away from them and he was barely keeping it together. Jason had never wanted anything so desperately in his life as for Dick to be okay.

“How much time do you think we have left?”

The question was sudden and Jason glanced at Batman. He had heard fear there, something he had never thought he would hear from the man beneath the cowl. “I don’t know.”

“How long did it take him…?” Batman hesitated, but Jason knew what he had been going to ask.

“To kill me?” He looked out the window. “I’m not sure of the exact length of time from when he kidnapped me – I was unconscious when he took me to the warehouse – but it couldn’t have been more than two, three hours.”

“What makes you think there’s time now?” Batman’s voice was harsh but Jason ignored it. He knew what this conversation was costing him.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t like any of this!”

Jason continued to stare out the window, unable to look at Batman. “I was seventeen, Dick is thirteen – he’ll appeal to Joker even more. The freak will drag it out.” This was something Jason had known from the beginning, but hearing the words aloud made him sick to the very bones of his soul. His heart ached for Dick.

Batman didn’t speak again and Jason was glad. He didn’t think he was capable of answering anymore questions.

It took them twenty minutes to search the next two locations on the list, with no results. The weight of hopelessness started to press in on Jason as they returned to the car. He knew in his gut they were running out of time. He jumped as Wally appeared in front of him, shocked that the teenager had been serious about meeting them at their second location. Jason had to admit that the super speed thing was seriously impressive.

“He’s not here?” Wally cried, taking one look at them. “But he wasn’t in any of the other buildings!”

“And we’re out of places to look,” Batman responded.

The three of them stood in silence, staring at one another. Jason could feel cold terror take hold of his heart and squeeze hard. Blood pounded in his ears and he could feel himself starting to loose control of the tenuous grip he had been maintaining on his panic.

“We need to look at this logically,” Batman finally said, although the effort of speaking distorted his voice. “Would Joker leave Gotham completely?”

“No. He wouldn’t have the patience to wait,” Jason answered bitterly.

“So he has to be here somewhere. Jason, you know him best, where else would he go?”

“I don’t know! Abandoned and empty buildings have always been his location of choice.”

“We’ve already checked all of them!” Batman growled. “Jason, think!”

Jason put a hand to his head, thinking desperately. Joker was so unpredictable in so many ways, but so predictable in others. The one thing he had always been consistent in was his choice of location for tormenting his victims: empty, abandoned, condemned, anywhere he could operate undisturbed. Why would he change now?

 _Because he knew you were looking for him,_ a voice prompted from the back of his mind.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. That was true. The only person who knew this Joker better than him was the Batman from his world. But that didn’t change the fact that Joker would still need somewhere he could torture Dick without anyone hearing him. And yet they had just searched all of those locations, not to mention that half the city was being heavily policed or searched by bomb disposal squads in light of the attack on Gotham General.

 _But not the first area you searched,_ the little voice prodded.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Jason exclaimed as it hit him. “He went back! Batman, what was that massive old building a couple of blocks from Gotham General?”

“An old storage facility for Branson Furniture before they went into liquidation. But I searched that…” his eyes widened slightly, “…before we knew Robin was missing!”

Jason looked at him. “Every resident was moved out of there after the bombs went off, but it’s already been searched, making it the perfect location for Joker! Wally, do you know where it is?” he turned to the teenager urgently.

Wally nodded, his expression grim as he pulled his goggles over his eyes.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Batman told him.

Jason noticed that he didn’t tell Wally to wait for them. Clearly, Batman knew that time was almost up too.

oOo

Robin’s breathing hitched. Was Joker going to cut him open?

He could hear the clown humming as he unlocked the manacles from his upper arms and they flopped to his sides. Immediately, he attempted to bring them in front of him but only his left arm would co-operate. His right arm remained where it was, limp and heavy. Robin realized it was broken, something he been unaware of with manacles pinning his arms while pain blanketed every inch of him.

He looked at his left arm and felt his stomach churn slightly. Joker had carved a childish image of Batman onto it. Angry, red raw gashes glared back at him while blood dripped out and rolled onto the floor.

“Like it?” Joker asked, bringing the broken arm forward so Robin could see his work there as well. ‘Joker’ had been carved along his inner forearm in an untidy scrawl. Blood flowed from the wounds, puddling on the floor beneath. Robin felt sick at the sight of his mutilated arms. His attention went to his hands and his breath caught in his throat.

Joker had carved along the lines of his fingers and palms, leaving the skin hanging in tattered shreds. Blood was smeared across the palms while the wounds continued to bleed. Robin stared at the vast swathes of red slowly pooling in front of him.

“Picasso was my inspiration,” Joker told him. “I mean, the guy cut off his own ear for art or something. Course, I didn’t want to copy him completely or it would have just been a copy instead of a Joker original!” He chuckled. “Ready for our last game, pumpkin?”

“Haven’t you…had enough…fun?” Robin rasped, his stunted breathing impeding his speech.

“Now, now, don’t be a spoilsport. We’ve played all the little kid games for you, now it’s my turn to have a grown-up game!”

“You’ve…already…played doctors and…nurses.” Each word Robin spoke was an effort and it was getting even harder to take a breath now. Lying on his stomach was making whatever Joker had crushed in his chest worse.

“What are you talking about, birdie?”

“My…arms…moran.”

Joker glanced at the mutilated appendages and a wide grin split his face. “That’s what you think? Oh little birdie, you’re so innocent, it’s adorable!”

Robin gave him a confused look, ignoring the neck cramp from keeping his head twisted to the left. Joker leaned down and stroked his hair. “You see, sweetie, people let nurses and doctors see all the things that they’d normally only let very special friends see, and they get to touch things that only very special friends get to touch, so that’s why it’s a grown-ups game.”

Robin’s eyes widened in horror as he understood what Joker was saying. The hand still stroking his hair took on a horrible, insidious meaning and he jerked his head away. “No!”

He rolled onto his side, ignoring the pain that lanced his chest and flung out his unbroken arm to try and push the clown away. Joker grabbed it and squeezed the wounds tightly, drawing a cry of distress from Robin. “See, it’s not really your call to make, little bird,” Joker told him, pulling the arm towards him and forcing the boy back onto his stomach before straddling his legs.

Robin struggled frantically as the Joker leaned over him, the clown’s weight pinning him against the floor making breathing almost impossible. He wanted to cry. He didn’t want this to happen. He’d had enough. Everything the clown had inflicted on him tonight paled in comparison to _this_. His chest heaved as he tried to breathe, simultaneously trying to pull himself out from under the clown.

“Relax, little bird,” Joker cooed in his ear. “You’ll only make it hurt more.”

Robin felt sick. Joker was not going to do this to him, he refused to let him. His unbroken arm tried to scrape the clown’s face but Joker laughingly shoved it aside. His fingers brushed against something hard on the ground beside them and Robin felt a rush of realization. _The manacles!_

He seized the iron cuffs, disregarding how much it hurt his shattered fingers and swung them backwards, into the Joker’s face. There was a loud crunch and Joker gave a yelp. The weight disappeared from Robin’s back easing the pressure on his breathing somewhat. He gulped in a breath before swinging again, but Joker grabbed his wrist and twisted it, forcing him to drop the manacles.

The clown wasn’t laughing now. “Bad little Robin!” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, and different to the high-pitched baby voice he had been using all along.

Without warning, something sharp and hot and agonizing was driven into Robin’s shoulder and he screamed, trying to twist away. The white hot pain continued to plough inwards and there was a thump as something hit the floor beneath him, impaling him in place. Joker’s knife. Somewhere in his tattered mind Robin was aware of someone whimpering.

Joker leaned forward to whisper in his ear, the putrid breath coating his skin once more. “We are playing MY game now, little bird.” There was a hard twist to the knife in his shoulder and Robin would have screamed if there was enough oxygen in his lungs, but all that sounded was a choked gasp.

The clown’s weight was starting to crush him. It had been hard enough to draw breath before, but now he couldn’t inhale even the tiniest puff of air. Robin realized he was slowly suffocating. Blood was pounding in his head and his vision darkened. Joker’s fingers started to tug at his uniform and he pressed his head into the floor, hoping he would suffocate first.

“GET THE HELL OFF HIM YOU FREAK!”

Joker stopped tugging and Robin twisted his head upwards at the sound of the familiar voice. His best friend stood several feet away, looking angry and scared. Robin reached one shaking hand towards him. “Wa…lly,” he managed to gasp out before the blackness looming in on the edges of his vision swallowed him completely.


	10. Chapter 10

Wally’s heart was hammering madly against his chest as he ran in the direction of the furniture warehouse. It wasn’t speed that caused the adrenaline spike, it was fear. Dick had told him about Jason’s death…or at least, he had told him that Jason had been murdered by the Joker from his reality and resurrected in the Lazarus Pit, but that he didn’t know the details. Jason didn’t want to talk about it and Dick didn’t like to pry.

Wally hadn’t thought about it much either way – being more interested in the science that would deliver Jason back to his world – until the events of this evening.

He knew people thought he was pretty clueless sometimes. He was okay with that, he knew he could be. Wally was designed for speed, he just wasn’t built for people watching in the same way that Dick was. But tonight, when he had arrived in the Batcave and taken one look at Jason, he had seen what real terror looked like on a person’s face.

And it scared him a little. Jason struck him as a pretty tough guy, but this evening he had looked like he was barely holding it together. It hadn’t helped that Batman was looking rattled as well. Add it all together and things were looking pretty grim for his friend. Wally planned on yelling at Robin when he found him for pulling such a dumbass move.

He skidded to a halt outside the old storage facility: a massive concrete structure with raised skylights on a flat roof, a large loading dock that had long since been bricked up, and a small steel door that was padlocked from the front. There were lights on inside. Wally could see the ugly neon reflecting through the glass panels of the skylight. He debated the merits of smashing through the steel door but decided that: one, it would announce his arrival to anyone inside and Robin was always getting on his case about the whole stealth thing, and two, he’d probably only end up with a bloody nose anyway. His eyes went back to the skylight. One or two panels had glass missing. Wally smirked. He could ghost up those walls and drop into that warehouse without breaking a sweat. That would show Rob a thing or two about ninja stealth!

He jerked when a scream shattered the silence of the night. Eyes widening, he zoomed over to the warehouse and tore up the walls, sliding neatly through one of the empty frames and down the wall until he landed with a soft _whump_ in the warehouse. There was junk everywhere, mostly broken, cobwebbed furniture, and Wally could hear noises from the center of the room - a male voice and the sound of…whimpers? He padded softly in that direction, freezing at the sight that greeted him when he rounded several piles of chairs that had been stacked one on top of the other.

Robin was trapped and squirming under a man in a purple suit who Wally guessed was Jason’s Joker. The clown was leaning over him, twisting a knife in the boy’s shoulder. There was blood _everywhere._

Rage burst out of Wally. “GET THE HELL OFF HIM YOU FREAK!”

Two sets of eyes stared back at him: one furiously astonished, the other in terrified shock. He could see Robin’s fingers scrabbling on the ground. A shaking hand reached towards him. “Wa…lly,” the younger boy choked out. 

Hearing Robin use his civilian name while in uniform frightened Wally even more than the blood. Then Robin’s eyes closed and his head slid to the ground. Something snapped in Wally, and he ran at the clown, crashing into him and knocking him off of his friend. Twisting, he ran and launched himself at the pillar, bouncing off it and using the momentum to send Joker stumbling back several paces. Wally landed in a crouched position beside Robin, eyes narrowed at Joker.

The clown retreated, watching him warily. “You’re fast.”

“You’re ugly!” It was a childish retort and Wally knew it, but he was angry and scared – never a good combination for his mouth.

“Well, that was rude. I pay you a compliment and you insult me.” Joker wagged a finger. “Not very nice.”

“Not very nice, are you freaking kidding me?!” Wally gestured angrily at Robin.

Joker shrugged. “What? We had fun.” He paused. “Well, maybe I had more fun than he did.”

Wally gave a strangled snarl and his hands clenched into fists. Despite being a crime fighter, he was not a violent person, but he was feeling some pretty savage intentions towards the man in front of him right now.

Joker hooted. “What is it with you baby heroes and hot tempers? Look at you! You just want to tear me apart, don’t you?” He gave Wally a slow smile and gestured towards himself in a come hither fashion. “Come on, kid, I dare you!”

Wally longed to do it. Every fiber of his being twitched with the effort of restraining himself from throwing himself at the clown and kicking his ass. But the rational voice in his head – the one that sounded like Robin – was telling him to play it cool. Much as Wally wanted to break this guy’s face in, his priority was his best friend. The younger boy was in dire need of medical attention and Wally couldn’t afford to let this freak take any pot shots at him before that happened.

Joker cocked his head to one side. “What’s the matter, zippy? Scared?”

He snorted. “Right, because a dude in make-up is so terrifying!” Wally would never admit to it, but he actually was a little scared of this clown. He could literally smell the crazy.

Joker stopped smiling. “Well, we can fix that.” A crowbar slid from his sleeve into his hand and he ran at Wally.

But the speedster was faster. He was on his feet before Joker could blink, rushing forward and smashing a fist into the man’s jaw. The crack that echoed was very satisfying to Wally’s ears.

Something silver flashed through the air and Wally felt a sharp pain just above his knee. He tumbled backwards, leg stinging and glared at the clown who was hooting and chuckling as he slapped the crowbar off his thigh.

Not taking his eyes off Joker, Wally massaged his throbbing knee. _C’mon, Batman, where the hell are you?_ He couldn’t afford to get injured, he needed to get Robin out of here. But he also couldn’t move him without being sure it was safe to do so first.

Joker was sensing his reluctance to engage. The crowbar now bouncing off the palm of his hand, he drew closer. “You’re pretty fast, pumpkin, I’ll give you that. Not too bright though, making the man with the crowbar mad. Shouldn’t you be running your little butt out of here?”

“I’m not going anywhere without Robin!”

“Really? He doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anytime soon…so what is it you’re really waiting for?”

There was a loud crash – Batman and Jason smashed through the skylight, landing just a few feet away from them.

“Ah,” said Joker, nodding his head wisely and backing away. “That.” He turned towards Batman and Jason, throwing his arms open in greeting. “Well, looky here! Party crashers! I wish you boys had told me you were coming, I don’t know if I have enough drinks.”

Wally was done listening to this psycho. Let Batman and Jason worry about him now. Quickly, he ran back to Robin and dropped to his knees beside his friend, holding two shaking fingers to the younger boy’s throat. There was a pulse, but it was feeble. Wally’s eyes travelled to the mutilated arms. “Oh man, bro, he really did a number on you.”

And then Batman was beside him, sucking in a breath. Wally could hear Jason behind them screaming at Joker, but he didn’t much care – they could barbecue the freak for all he cared. Right now, all he cared about was that Robin would be okay.

“Kid, help me move him,” said Batman in a low voice, uncharacteristically filled with emotion. “He can’t breathe like this.”

It was then Wally noticed how laboured Robin’s breathing was, like every breath was a struggle. He swallowed the lump in his throat, helping Batman to gently roll Robin onto his side. Batman slid an arm under the boy’s shoulders and carefully elevated him to a sitting position. Wally was surprised when he chose to lean Robin against him rather than his own chest, but wrapped his arms around the younger boy to support him without a word. He tried hard not to think about how horribly light Robin felt, like there was nothing left in him and it would only take a small breeze to blow away what was there.

Batman was examining Robin’s injuries, his large hands ghosting over the skinny arms. His teeth were gritted so tightly that Wally thought he could hear them cracking. Abruptly, he stilled, and reached for something on the floor beside them. Wally could see him staring at the paper that he had retrieved from the floor.

“What the fuck is that!” Jason exploded from behind them suddenly.

Wally hadn’t heard him join them and jerked his head upwards. Jason stood just behind Batman, staring down at the paper. He had a gun pointing towards the center of the room. Wally glanced over and saw the Joker standing there, both hands in the air while he whistled to himself and rocked on his heels. He looked too damn calm for Wally’s liking, but Jason didn’t seem to care. His gaze was riveted to the paper in Batman’s hands.

“We did a little painting for you, Batsy!” Joker called. “Do you like it?”

Batman responded by closing his eyes and crushing the paper in his hand. Half his face was hidden by a mask, but Wally could still clearly see pain there. 

Jason had turned back to face the Joker again, both hands on the gun now aiming directly at Joker’s head. “You son-of-a-bitch! I will END you!”

“Woah, now hang on!” Joker held a hand up and Wally could see some kind of remote there. The clown smiled as Jason froze. “What’s the matter, Hoodie? Bad case of déjà-vu?”

Jason muttered something unintelligible behind the mask.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that, pumpkin,” said Joker innocently, cupping a hand behind one ear. “You might want to get that mask checked, sounds like there might be a little problem with the acoustics.” He tapped his watch. “Anyway, much as I hate to leave in the middle of a party–”

“You’re going nowhere you freak!”

“Oh, I think I am, Hoodie. Unless you actually want me to blow this place up? I don’t know – all these explosions you keep surviving…maybe you’ve developed a taste for it?”

Wally could see Jason’s hands shaking from where they held the gun.

“See, the thing is, Hoodie, you might be pretty good at surviving the big boom, even Batsy and Zippy over there might make it out without too many limbs missing, but…” the smile that oozed across Joker’s face made Wally’s skin crawl, “…do you really think the little bird will survive?”

Wally glanced down at the unconscious Robin in his arms. His face was chalk white and there was a horrible, low rattling sound with each ragged inhalation and exhalation of breath. Joker had them right where he wanted.

He wasn’t sure what happened next, but he knew he had missed something crucial because suddenly, Jason was screaming at him. “WALLY! GET HIM OUT OF HERE!”

He didn’t need to be told twice. In a split second, he was on his feet and racing for the wall, an unconscious Robin clutched tightly in his arms. He flew up it and had just jumped through the broken skylight frame when the heat hit him. The blast propelled him forwards, sending him sailing through the air instead of sliding neatly down the side of the building like he had planned.

Wally had to twist in midair, still keeping a tight hold of Robin, as he aimed himself at the nearest building. If he could hit it at just the right angle, he might be able to regain momentum and get them to the ground safely.

Wally gritted his teeth and braced himself. _Hang on, Rob, I’ll get you out of this, I promise!_

oOo

Jason was beyond rational thought as they crashed through the skylight into the warehouse below. Every violent intention he had ever felt towards Joker burned through him as they landed and he caught sight of Robin. His gun was out and pointing before Batman could stop him.

Joker opened his arms in greeting. “Well, looky here! Party crashers! I wish you boys had told me you were coming, I don’t know if I have enough drinks.”

Jason’s grip on the gun was so tight that it hurt. Rage, violence and murder were screaming in his ears. “Into the center, now!” he ordered, jerking the weapon, hardly recognizing his own voice through the fury.

Joker complied, smiling infuriatingly.

Batman was gone, joining Wally beside Robin. Jason could see them carefully rolling the boy onto his side and somewhere within the murderous rage flickered a brief pang of relief – Dick was alive. Then he caught a glimpse of the boy’s arms and his heart stopped.

“YOU FUCKING-SON-OF-A-BITCH!” he roared at Joker. “I’M GOING TO FUCKING RIP YOU APART!”

Jason meant every word. He was going to kill the clown, tear him apart limb from limb with his bare hands, but not before he made him live through every single agonizing torture he had put Dick through. Jason didn’t care if it damned him to hell.

Joker pretended to look shocked. “Such language in front of the kiddies.” Then he gave an evil smile. “Fond of the little bird, were we?”

“You stay there!” Jason snarled in response, moving towards the others without taking his eyes off Joker. Reaching them, he looked down at Robin and his attention was immediately captured by the paper in Batman’s hands. “What the fuck is that!”

Jason couldn’t take his eyes off the paper: two small, bloody handprints with the words ‘To Batman’ written over them, while underneath read, ‘From Robin.’ Jason knew every bit of the horrible image had been created using Dick’s blood. It was one of the cruelest, most sadistic things he’d ever seen. It physically hurt him to think of Dick being forced into making it.

“We did a little painting for you, Batsy!” Joker called out. “Do you like it?”

Batman crushed the paper in his hand, but didn’t speak or move. Pain rolled off him in waves.

Jason turned back to the Joker, his voice low and thick as he ground out his words, “You son-of-a-bitch! I will END you!”

“Woah, now hang on!” Joker held a hand up and Jason froze when he spotted the remote detonator. “What’s the matter, Hoodie? Bad case of déjà-vu?”

Jason gave a strangled response, unable to form words. He should have known the psycho had a backup plan!

“Sorry, didn’t catch that, pumpkin,” said Joker, cupping a hand behind one ear. “You might want to get that mask checked, sounds like there might be a little problem with the acoustics.” He tapped his watch. “Anyway, much as I hate to leave in the middle of a party–”

“You’re going nowhere you freak!”

“Oh, I think I am, Hoodie. Unless you actually want me to blow this place up? I don’t know – all these explosions you keep surviving…maybe you’ve developed a taste for it?”

The gun shook in his hands.

“See, the thing is, Hoodie, you might be pretty good at surviving the big boom, even Batsy and Zippy over there might make it out without too many limbs missing, but…” an evil smile crawled across his face, “…do you really think the little bird will survive?”

Jason knew he wouldn’t. Panic gripped him. In the end, that was what this was all about – the best way to hurt Batman, to hurt him. The clown didn’t much care about getting caught in his own explosions, like the parasite that he was, he always seemed to survive. Jason realized with sudden clarity, that Joker had no intention of letting Robin leave here alive. “WALLY! GET HIM OUT OF HERE!”

The kid was smart enough not to question the order. Before Jason could blink or Batman could react, he was on his feet with Robin and racing for the wall, a blur of colour.

Jason’s heartbeat sped up as time slowed down. He watched, mesmerized, as Joker’s smile widened and he held his hand up, thumb pressing down on the detonator. He found that he didn’t care about survival this time. He wanted the clown to burn. No. He wanted to _watch_ the clown burn.

Something slammed into him and Jason was forced to the ground. Batman was on him as a massive explosion rocked the floor. Bits of furniture and rubble clattered down around them. He glanced quickly to the last place he had seen the Joker but the clown was gone. “DAMMIT!” he yelled.

Batman was back on his feet now, shouting at him, but Jason couldn’t hear what over the ringing in his ears. Before he realized what was happening, the older man had seized the back of his jacket and dragged him to his feet. He heard a clang overhead and looked up. Batman had discharged his line gun.

Before Jason could object, they were flying upwards towards the skylight. A second explosion shook the building as they reached the roof and they were flung violently forward. Jason twisted in midair – aware of Batman doing the same beside him – and they hit the ground hard, the momentum sending them tumbling roughly backwards.

Batman wasted no time in getting to his feet and throwing his gaze around. His eyes narrowed. Wally was sitting propped against the nearest building several feet away. His arms were still around Robin and his eyes were wide as he watched the fire.

“Robin!” Batman hissed and ran, Jason right behind him.

Batman was first to reach them and he crouched down quickly, placing two fingers to Robin’s throat. “Kid Flash, are you alright?”

It was then Jason noticed that Wally’s arms and legs were skinned and bleeding. Jason guessed he had used himself as a shield to protect Robin from the worst of the blast.

“Fine,” said Wally, a little dazed. He looked down at Robin. His voice was very small when he spoke. “Will he be alright?”

“I don’t know,” said Batman, pain evident in his voice. He reached for Robin, but Wally tightened his grip.

“What if he’s not?”

Fear was written all over his face as he looked up and Jason understood why. Wally was terrified that if he let his friend go, he’d never see him alive again.

He dropped to his haunches and put a hand on the teenager’s shoulder. “Wally, you were amazing tonight, but Robin needs different help now.” There was no response. Jason swallowed the very large, very hard lump in his throat. “Wally, you have to let him go.”

Wally’s grip loosened, allowing Batman to take the injured boy from him. Jason could see the reluctance with which Wally let go and despite everything, smiled sadly. This kid was one hell of a friend.

Batman got to his feet, gently cradling Robin to him. His pain seemed beyond words at this point and he just looked at Jason.

“I’ll drive,” said Jason, helping Wally to his feet. “Wally, can you make it to Leslie’s?” Those scrapes looked painful but there wasn’t enough room for them all in the Batmobile.

Wally nodded, his eyes on his friend. “I’ll let them know you’re coming,” he whispered, before zooming off.

They moved swiftly to the car and Jason helped Batman ease into the passenger seat, being careful to jostle Dick as little as possible. Then he sat into the unfamiliar driver’s seat. During all his years as Robin, he had never once driven the Batmobile.

He started up the car and pulled out, driving as fast as he dared - the horrible rattle of Dick’s breathing was getting worse and he could tell it was a struggle to breathe. Jason didn’t dare add to whatever internal damage there was by bumping and jerking the car or worse, wrapping it around a pole. He chanced a quick glance at Batman. The Dark Knight had Robin held tightly to him and one cheek was resting against Dick’s hair. The grief almost took Jason’s breath away. 

He wondered again about the pain his Bruce had experienced the night of his death and, for the first time, felt sorrow for his mentor. As long as Dick was alive, they had hope. His Bruce had never had that hope and Jason wondered how he had been able to stand it.

The pain in his own heart was practically crippling him.

oOo

It took less than fifteen minutes to get to Leslie’s. When they pulled up, Leslie and Alfred were framed in the doorway. Jason could see them hurrying down the steps as he jumped out and ran to the passenger door, once more aiding Batman with Robin. He ignored Leslie’s gasp of horror and the hand that went to her mouth as she drew level with them. His heart was pounding frantically. Dick barely seemed to be breathing at this point.

“Get him inside,” she whispered, her hand sliding down to clutch at the chain around her neck. Batman didn’t need to be told, he was already moving towards the clinic.

Leslie hurried after him, but Alfred was rooted to the spot, his expression shocked. Jason could tell he had been badly shaken by what he had seen, and put a hand on his shoulder. “She needs your help, Alfred,” he reminded the butler softly.

The old man swallowed. “Of course, sir.” The stiff upper lip that defined Alfred in times of crisis returned. “At once.” He turned swiftly and dashed up the steps. Jason followed him slowly. His heart was hammering painfully as he climbed the steps and he had to pause at the door to draw breath. The adrenaline was wearing off and fear was kicking in. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as terrified as right in this moment.

He had only known Dick for just over a week, hardly enough time to get to know the boy at all, but the relationship that had developed was the nearest Jason had ever come to understanding what a real family felt like. Not a mentor training him to fight crime, or the older boy who’d been Robin before him and understood better than anyone how hard it was to please Bruce. Not the drug addled mother who’d OD’ed before his eighth birthday…not even the kindly old butler who cared for him and made sure he was fed and clothed. None of that came close to the feeling of warmth that a skinny little teenager who looked up to him had given him, or the sense of belonging inspired by the protectiveness he felt for the boy. Like a real live kid brother. Family.

Jason knew this was one death he wouldn’t come back from. If Dick didn’t make it, Red Hood would take over and Jason would be gone for ever. With his head bowed, shoulders hunched and fists clenched, Jason tried to get a handle on his grief.

He needed Dick to be okay.


	11. Chapter 11

It took Jason several minutes before he was able to pull himself together enough to be able to enter the clinic. By the time he arrived in the examination room, Dick was propped on an elevated gurney with an oxygen mask to aid his breathing. Leslie was taking his blood pressure and assessing his injuries while Alfred cut open the front of his Robin uniform.

Batman was standing, rigid, in the corner, watching with unblinking eyes. Jason could see blood smeared all down the front of his chest and sucked in a breath. So much blood between here and the warehouse, did Dick even have any blood left?

He looked away, unable to bear the sight in front of him any longer, and his gaze fell on Wally. The teenager was sitting in a chair, his scrapes cleaned and bandaged. Jason was shocked to see him eating a candy bar as though everything was normal, until he remembered that Dick had told him something weird about Wally’s metabolism. But his panicked brain couldn’t remember exactly what at that moment.

He returned his attention to Dick just as Alfred parted the front of his uniform, revealing a mass of dark bruises littering the boy’s chest. Ribbons of red were crawling slowly from the gaping wound in his shoulder, but it was the right side of his chest that held Jason’s attention – something didn’t look right, a slight indentation along the ribs.

The room was deathly silent. All eyes were on Leslie who was listening to his chest with her brows knotted. After a moment she removed the stethoscope from her ears and turned to Batman. “Bruce, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to move him.”

“What! Why?”

“I need an x-ray to confirm it, but I think he has a collapsed lung. And I can hear fluid. He’s going to need surgery and I just don’t have the equipment or supplies for something like this.”

Batman placed a hand to his head. “Leslie, every hospital in the city will be packed to capacity with emergencies after the explosion at Gotham General tonight – they may not see to him on time!”

“I know, but he has several broken ribs and I can’t take the chance that one of them has perforated the lung. He needs x-rays, Bruce, and a blood transfusion.”

“What about Mount Justice?” Wally spoke up suddenly. “The medical bay is fully equipped.”

Leslie looked doubtful. “Isn’t that kind of far?”

“There’s a zeta-tube just a few blocks away.” Wally looked at Batman whose eyes were locked on Robin. “It gives him a better chance than staying in Gotham.”

Jason had no idea what they were talking about. What the hell was a zeta-tube? Then he decided he didn’t care. Wally was suggesting something that might save Dick’s life. It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. “How do we move him?”

Everyone looked at him, then back at Batman. Seeing no objection from the Dark Knight, Alfred spoke up. “I came in the van – it’s the most discreet vehicle you possess, sir. We can fit the gurney in the back to transport him to the zeta-tube.”

“And I can run on ahead to let Red Tornado and Black Canary know you’re coming!” said Wally, jumping to his feet.

“Then move,” Batman’s gravelly voice sounded. “We don’t have much time.”

oOo

“Recognize, Robin B 01. Recognize, Red Hood C 03.” The automated voice was the first thing Jason heard as the light dimmed and the pins and needles wore off. And he began to consider the possibility that he might just be losing it.

The broken old phone box that Batman had driven them to didn’t look like anything special, and Jason had come close to asking if they had all lost their minds when Batman informed them that he would go through first to configure…whatever the hell he was going to configure. Then just when Jason had thought his life couldn’t get anymore twilight-zone, Batman had disappeared in a flash of blinding white light.

It had been with much trepidation that he had followed with Dick on the gurney. He didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the prickly pins and needles sensation that had rippled across him as his entire body disintegrated. And now, here he was, standing in what appeared to be the inside of a mountain while what looked like a red robot hurried towards him. Scratch the losing it – Jason was seriously beginning to think they’d all died in the explosion and this was some kind of weird afterlife.

The automated voice was now announcing Leslie. “Red Tornado, do you have everything ready?” she asked the android, moving over to the gurney and checking on Dick.

“Black Canary is preparing everything as we speak,” he responded, surprising Jason.

_The robot can talk?_

“Then let’s go,” she said grimly, her eyes on Dick.

Jason was alarmed to see a small bubble of red at the corner of his mouth beneath the oxygen mask. He pushed the gurney after Red Tornado and Leslie, just as Batman and Alfred joined them. It didn’t take long to reach the medical bay: a high-tech facility where a blond woman was setting up an x-ray machine. Her face blanched when she caught sight of Robin.

Before Jason knew what was happening, the gurney was taken from his hands. He could only watch as the impromptu medical team swung into action, cutting away the last of Dick’s Robin uniform, taking x-rays and starting a blood transfusion. Jason had to look away when they began to intubate him.

Batman stood beside him, disturbingly motionless and silent. The silence wasn’t the problem – that was something both Bruce Wayne and Batman excelled at. What disturbed Jason was the passive, almost helpless, nature of his actions, something he would never associate with Batman. It unnerved Jason to see him like this.

He jumped as the shrill whine of a cardiac monitor pierced his ears. The blond woman wheeled a crash cart over while Leslie quickly reclined the gurney so that Dick was in a horizontal position.

Beside him, an anguished “no” escaped Batman’s lips.

They watched as the medical team applied the paddles and Dick’s body snapped under the electrical charge. No response. Jason’s mind went blank. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be.

Dick’s body arched on the bed as they shocked him again, but the shrill whine continued ringing in Jason’s ears, deafening him.

A third charge of the paddles and Dick’s body was lifted clear off the bed, his head rolling lifelessly to one side. Jason closed his eyes and held his breath…and then he heard it.

Beeping.

His eyes opened. The paddles were gone and Jason released the breath he was holding. Dick was alive, his heart back in the fight to survive.

Leslie was in front of them now, pushing them backwards towards the door. Batman resisted, his gaze never leaving the boy on the gurney. “Leslie, no, please…”

Her face was etched with pity. “Bruce, you don’t need to see this.”

“I can’t leave him.”

“You have to. Bruce, he needs surgery.” When the man still didn’t budge, she put a reassuring hand on his arm. “Bruce, I promise we’ll take care of him.” A last gentle but firm push found them back in the long corridor, the doors in front of them swinging shut.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stood there, staring at the doors and listening to the activity in the room beyond. Then Batman turned away, his right fist clenched over his chest as though in pain – which, if the agonizing sensation in Jason’s own chest was anything to go by, he probably was.

Jason stared, unseeing, at the door. He had never felt so useless before. Someone he cared about was fighting for his life and there was nothing he could do. He covered his eyes with a hand and for the second time that night, he found himself praying. _Let him live, please. I’ll do anything, just please, please, let Dick be alright._

All he wanted was for Dick to be okay. He didn’t care about anything else. He didn’t even care if the Joker got away so long as Dick survived.

It was the most frightening epiphany of his life.

He had spent so many years angry at Bruce for not destroying the Joker, hurt that he had seemed to care so little. But now Jason understood that the Joker’s death would have been meaningless to Bruce. It wouldn’t take away the god-awful pain of a lost loved one; it wouldn’t even appease the terrible guilt for not getting there in time. The only thing that killing Joker would achieve would be to turn Bruce into the man he hated and despised more than any single thing on the planet, meaning Joker would have won.

Oh, Jason still wanted to rip the clown apart, throttle him with his bare hands until he died a pleading, gasping and broken shell in front of him. That instinct would never go away. But now, at last, Jason understood that it would also never fix things. It would never undo all the pain that Joker had caused, nor would it right the wrongs of the past. As for the future… There would always be psychopaths and sadists and crazies to take his place, did Jason plan on killing them all? Become one of them to defeat them? It would never work. And in the end, the only thing he would destroy was himself.

The weight of this realization bore down on him and his breathing hitched. He wished he could tell his Bruce he was sorry, that he understood now.

“Whatsgoingon? What’s happening?”

The panicked voice shattered his thoughts and Jason turned to see a wild-eyed Wally standing beside them. “They’re working on him.”

“What does that mean? Is he going to be alright?” He made to move around Jason and enter the medical bay.

“Whoa, kid!” Jason put a hand on his chest, realizing as he did so that Wally had changed clothes. He was now in a shirt and jeans. “Let them work, that’s why we’re out here.”

Wally glared mulishly up at him, ready to argue, and Jason softened his tone. “They know what they’re doing, Wally.”

The teenager looked at Batman, turned his gaze to the door then back to Jason again. Finally, he nodded and Jason removed the hand from his chest. “You changed,” he commented, not knowing what else to say.

“I had to. I couldn’t…” his voice tailed off and he glanced at Batman. Jason immediately understood. Wally had needed to get out of the clothes that were saturated with his best friend’s blood.

He put a hand on Wally’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“Batman!” an unfamiliar voice sounded behind him.

Jason turned to see two men walking towards them and felt his eyebrows rise into his hairline behind the mask. One of the men was wearing blue spandex and a flowing red cape, while the other was decked out in red with yellow boots. He guessed they were superheroes but as far as he was concerned, they looked all kinds of ridiculous.

“What’s going on?” the man in red demanded as they drew level with them. “We got back to the Watchtower and there was an urgent message from you, but when we tried the Batcave we got no response. No one is responding on any of the communicators here either. Where are–”

The words died on his lips as Batman turned to face them and he got full view of the blood smeared down the front of his chest. Jason could see his eyes widen behind the mask.

“Batman,” Blue Spandex was speaking now, “are you hurt?”

“No.”

There was silence while they waited for him to elaborate. When he wasn’t forthcoming with an explanation, the man in red turned to Wally.

“It’s Robin’s,” Wally whispered miserably.

“Robin’s!” he repeated, horror-struck.

“What happened?” demanded the other man.

“The Joker…from Jason’s world…he…” Wally looked to Jason for help and his heart sank as he realized the teenager wanted him to explain.

But Jason didn’t even want to think about the night’s events, much less describe them. Right now, it was taking everything he had just to keep from going over the edge.

Blue Spandex was studying him. “You must be Jason.”

He nodded.

“How did this happen?”

Jason exhaled. Wasn’t he supposed to be the outsider? Why did people keep looking to him for explanations? He recounted what had happened with a minimum of detail. Describing it conjured images that were like a knife in his brain.

When he was finished, Blue Spandex looked angry. “So the Joker is still loose in Gotham?”

“We lost him after the explosion; we had more important things to worry about!” Jason snapped.

The man’s expression softened. “I know that, I didn’t mean–” He shook his head and turned to Batman. “Flash and I will search Gotham. We’ll find the Joker.”

Batman nodded, his jaw tight.

The guy in red – Flash – had his arm around Wally’s shoulder and was talking in a low voice to the teenager. Jason caught the end of what he was saying. “…fighter. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

Jason hoped he was right.

The two heroes said quick goodbyes and left, but not before Blue Spandex gave Batman’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. The humanity of the gesture surprised Jason; it suggested that these men were more than a team, they were friends. He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that _Batman_ had friends.

It was the longest night of Jason’s life. The three of them remained outside the medical bay, staring at a door that remained resolutely shut. Wally was slouched against a wall, while Jason paced at intermittent intervals. Batman didn’t move from where he stood, rigid and frozen. Jason didn’t know how he could stay so still; every nerve in his body was jangling.

The sun was out before a strained and exhausted looking Leslie finally appeared. They surged towards her and she put her palms up. “He’s in recovery. We’ll move him to a room shortly and you can see him then.”

“How is he?” Batman’s voice was hoarse. They were the first words he had spoken in hours.

“Still critical. If he makes it through the next twenty-four hours, he’s in with a fighting chance.”

If. The words had a hollow ring to Jason’s ears.

oOo

Three days. Three fucking days before Dick was no longer critical. If Jason had thought his nerves were frayed before, it was nothing compared to three days of waiting while Dick hovered somewhere between life and death.

He knew Joker was twisted, but even he had been stunned by the tortures the clown had inflicted on the boy. Among the worst were six broken ribs, one of which had perforated a lung resulting in its collapse. There had been blood in the chest cavity and Dick had needed a chest tube. He’d been placed on a respirator until that afternoon. Leslie had finally removed it just a few hours ago, saying Dick was now strong enough to breathe on his own.

The removal of the respirator had negated the need to keep sedating him. Jason hoped that meant the vigil he and Bruce had been maintaining for the last three days was almost at an end. They had been the longest, most difficult days of his life. Sequestered in this silent room occupied only by himself, Bruce and occasionally Alfred – who was dividing his time between here and Wayne Manor in case he needed to answer any questions about the absent Bruce Wayne – while watching the unconscious boy’s battle to stay alive had brought him closer to his breaking point than anything he’d ever experienced before. It was incredible how much this limbo felt like hell.

Wally had been allowed to see Dick just once after the surgery. After that, Leslie had insisted that visitors be kept to a minimum to prevent infection. The League had swiftly ensured those directions were followed, much to the anger of the teenagers who had congregated down the corridor from the room once word of Robin’s injuries reached them.

That had been an interesting encounter for Jason, facing down a group of crime-fighting teenagers who glared resentfully at him. The spunky blond girl had demanded to know why the ‘Red Tornado Wannabe’ was allowed to stay with Robin while they were forced to wait outside.

Jason had decided to let someone else explain to her that he would break the nose of the first person who tried to remove him from Dick’s room.

He was surprised the League hadn’t at least tried to make him move, but he supposed that after the incident on the first afternoon they had thought better of it. The incident had involved the guy in red spandex – Flash – forcibly removing his gun from him after he had discharged it into a wall when Dick’s temperature had spiked after developing an infection. That hadn’t gone down so well with the League and one of them had remained close by at all times after that.

Jason knew they considered him something of a loose cannon, but he didn’t particularly care. The only thing he cared about right now was that Dick would be okay. From his chair by the bed, he studied the pale face. Without the respirator, Dick looked like he was sleeping…until the eye travelled further down and met the swathe of bandages holding the shattered body in place.

Jason held a hand to his mouth – he had removed his helmet after the blond girl’s Red Tornado crack – as he surveyed the boy’s injuries once more. Aside from the broken ribs, Joker had shattered his collarbone, dislocated three fingers, broken his right arm and ruptured his spleen…and that was before one even considered the knife wounds.

He glanced at the boy’s heavily bandaged arms, splints supporting the right one. They had been unable to cast the broken arm because of the wounds to Dick’s shoulder and forearm. The sadistic images had been stitched and were being checked daily because, even though no one had said anything, Jason knew everyone was worried about the scars. Aside from the questions the presence of such scars on a thirteen-year-old Dick Grayson would raise, the psychological ramifications for the boy were immense. From some of the things Leslie and Black Canary had said, Jason had a feeling the League were working on a way to fade the scars as much as possible once the wounds healed.

The noise of Bruce shifting in his chair on the other side of the bed drew Jason’s attention. Bruce had his cowl pulled back and, if possible, looked even worse than the boy in the bed.

During one of his forays to Wayne Manor, Alfred had returned with a clean uniform for Bruce, because he certainly wasn’t leaving to change out of his blood-smeared one. It was the only improvement to the man’s appearance since they had brought Dick here. To Jason, he looked as though he had aged five years in the last few days: his face was haggard and peppered with several days’ worth of stubble, while his eyes were blood-shot and ringed with dark circles. The only times he had left Dick’s side was to use the bathroom. Otherwise, he had remained hunched forward in the chair, not speaking to anyone. He had eaten only because Alfred forced him to, and Jason knew he hadn’t slept.

Thinking about it now, he wondered how the man was even functioning. At least Jason had managed to snatch a few hours sleep here and there in the next room: fitful, uneasy sleep punctured by nightmares, but still sleep.

For the millionth time since this had all started, his thoughts went to his own Bruce. After the hell of the last few days, Jason had softened considerably towards the man. In the aftermath of his own death, Jason had been so focused on his own pain that he had given no thought to the pain of his mentor. However, having spent the last few days watching Dick’s struggle for life, he had gained a horrible insight into the pain his Bruce must have endured.

The image of Dick’s bloodied form in the warehouse was seared into his brain, polluting his consciousness. Even if he scrubbed his brain with bleach, it would never fully wash away the horror of that image. It tormented Jason in waking and sleeping moments. He wondered if Dick had been scared, or if he had thought he would die there. When Joker had murdered him, Jason had been convinced that his Bruce would rescue him right up until the moment he saw the bomb. The thought that Batman was coming had sustained him through the whole thing – he had never really thought he was going to die until the final seconds. But Dick knew that Jason had died at the Joker’s hands…had he spent the whole ordeal thinking he was going to die?

These thoughts gnawed on Jason’s brain like a cancer, eating away at his sanity until he wanted to scream and rip his brain from his head. And this was how he felt despite the fact they had gotten there on time…how the hell had his Bruce been able to _stand_ the fact that he hadn’t? The guilt was eating Jason alive.

A small moan from the bed sounded in the quiet of the room. Immediately, Jason and Bruce were on their feet and leaning over the boy. There was definite movement beneath the eyelids. A small twitch of the unbroken fingers told Jason that Dick was coming back to consciousness.

“Dick,” Bruce called softly. It was the first thing he had said in more than twenty-four hours.

A slight whimper escaped the boy’s lips. Jason could hear the heart monitor speed up and Dick’s nostrils flared in panic.

“Shhhhh, it’s alright, you’re safe now, relax,” Bruce said soothingly, one hand on the boy’s head, stroking his hair. “It’s okay, Dick.”

Jason watched as the movement beneath the lids became more rapid and finally, Dick’s blue eyes opened. They were frantic as they darted back and forth, finally coming to rest on Bruce.

“It’s alright, Dick,” Bruce repeated softly, the hand still stroking his hair. “Take it easy, you’re safe.”

The parched lips moved, whispering something too low to hear.

They leaned forward and Jason’s gut twisted as he realized what Dick was saying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Bruce whispered back fiercely.

The boy’s lips quivered and he pulled them into a tight line, trying to prevent the inevitable.

But Jason could see where this was heading and swallowed, his own throat uncomfortably tight. “Let it out, kiddo,” he said, his voice thick.

Dick’s eyes were huge when they looked at him and the fear there made Jason’s heart ache. Dick stared at him for several seconds…then his whole face crumpled.

Instantly, Bruce was on the bed beside him, gently raising him to a sitting position. Being careful not to disturb the various tubes and wires, he leaned Dick against him and wrapped his arms around the boy. “It’s okay, it’s alright,” he murmured into the boy’s hair as Dick’s whole frame shook with sobs. “I’ve got you.”

He rested a cheek against Dick’s hair and his eyes met Jason’s. The desperate grief there tugged at something deep inside Jason and he could feel something cracking and splintering within. The dam was crumbling. He couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of this room.

He backed up and turned, blindly stumbling for the door. The lights in the corridor dazzled him and he leaned a hand against the wall. He could hear voices at one end and automatically moved in the opposite direction. He needed to get away from everyone, from that room. He was shaking like a machine on overload about to come apart.

Jason turned a corner and came straight up against a wall of solid rock. For a split second he froze, then drove his fist at the wall, ignoring the pain that seared through it. He put his two hands against the wall and bowed his head. Several gasping breaths shuddered through him and he tried desperately to get a handle on his emotions.

But there was no gaining control. The wall he had constructed to contain all the pain was crumbling away, and a tidal wave of emotions were surging through it too fast and too powerful for him to control. Against his will, a great sob burst through clenched teeth, followed by another, and then another. That was all it took.

The damn burst and Jason found himself sliding to the ground as huge, gut wrenching sobs shook him. He hadn’t cried since he was twelve-years-old and there was a world of pain waiting to be released. He cried for the broken child in the bed and the grief-stricken father who held him. He cried for the mentor he had come to understand too late to save their relationship, but most of all, he cried for himself. For the person he had been, the life he had lost, and the things he had done. All the years of hurt and pain and loneliness poured out of him, and Jason was powerless to stop it. It occurred to him somewhere in the recesses of his unconscious that this was needed, it was time to let the poison go…but his conscious mind didn’t comprehend. It was too consumed with the pain jackknifing across his chest and the grief sitting on his shoulders, keeping him on his knees with his head bowed.

There was a hand on his shoulder now. But he couldn’t bring himself to look around or even care that he had been discovered in such a vulnerable position. It hurt too much. All of it. Being human hurt too damn much.


	12. Chapter 12

“Knock, knock,” said Jason quietly, tapping at the door of Dick’s room in Wayne Manor.

Alfred looked up from where he was smoothing down the bed covers. “Master Jason, have you only just returned?”

He shrugged. “Time got away from me.” He stepped into the room and moved over to the bed. “He’s sleeping?”

“They sedated him for the journey. Dr. Thompkins felt it would be more comfortable for him.”

Jason grimaced. There was no disputing that. It had only been a few days since Dick had regained consciousness and he was still in considerable pain, but Bruce had wanted him moved home as soon as he was strong enough. He was hoping the familiar surroundings would have a positive effect on Dick. The boy was still sleeping a lot, but when he was conscious, his mood was very subdued.

“Would you like some breakfast, sir? I fear you had a long night’s patrol.”

Jason smiled tiredly. “Breakfast would be great, Alfred, thank you.”

The older man placed a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you sit with Master Dick while I get something ready? The lad should wake soon and I’m sure he would like the company.”

“Okay.”

“I shan’t be long,” Alfred told him, leaving the room.

Quietly, Jason retrieved a chair from the corner and placed it by the bed. Reclining, he studied the sleeping boy and frowned. Dick still looked horribly pale and bloodless. Jason had no frame of reference for something like this – he had died and been resurrected in the Lazarus pit with his wounds healed – but shouldn’t Dick be starting to look a little better now? He wished there was something he could do to ease his suffering; Jason hated that he had such a long road to recovery in front of him.

The need to do something was why he had returned well after dawn from patrol in Gotham. Joker hadn’t been apprehended yet and Jason had spent the last few nights combing through the city looking for him. The League were also looking, but the clown was clearly lying low after the brutal assault on Robin and Jason was the only person in this reality who knew the man well enough to guess at his hiding places. He was determined to find the freak. Not for himself; he wanted to locate him for Dick’s sake. Jason had seen the fear in the boy’s eyes when Bruce had told him that Joker was still out there.

Jason wasn’t sure yet what he would do when he found the clown. He glanced at his bruised knuckles. After his emotional melt-down a few nights ago, the rage that had been his constant companion for years seemed to have disappeared, leaving in its place a weird sort of numb calm. He didn’t know if seeing Joker would rekindle that rage, or if his discoveries of the last few days would influence his actions. All Jason knew was he had to ensure Joker disappeared from this reality so that Dick would feel safe again.

There was a slight rustling of sheets and Jason returned his attention to the bed. Dick’s eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling. He leaned forward in the chair. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“A little creeped out that there’s someone watching me every time I wake up.”

Jason winced. There was absolutely no humour in that retort. “I just got in. Alfred’s making breakfast and asked me to sit with you. I can go if you don’t want company?”

“No!” He looked at Jason. “Its…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Nothing to apologize for, kiddo,” Jason replied gently.

Dick looked back at the ceiling. “So, they brought me home.”

“Bruce thought you might be more comfortable here.”

“Right.” Silence. Then, “Where is he?”

“Bruce? No idea.” Come to think of it, Jason was surprised that Bruce wasn’t here. He’d hardly left the boy’s side over the past few days.

Dick shifted slightly, then winced. “Can you…would you mind helping me sit up?”

“No problem.” Jason retrieved extra pillows from the closet and gently eased Dick to a sitting position, before propping the pillows behind him and leaning him against them. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Jason sat into the chair again. It occurred to him that this was the first time he had been alone with Dick since the boy's ordeal. “So, how are you feeling? Really?”

“Fine.”

Even if the voice hadn’t quivered, Jason would have known it was a lie. He snorted. “Right, and I’m a prima ballerina.”

Dick darted his eyes towards him but remained silent.

Jason sighed. Dick hadn’t spoken about what happened with Joker to anyone, and no one had pushed him because they were unwilling to make him relive the ordeal, but Jason knew from experience that burying it would only make things worse.

“Dick,” his voice was very gentle, “I know better than anyone how hard this is. Come on, talk to me.”

The boy wasn’t looking at him now; his eyes were on the bed. Jason could see the fingers of his right hand grasping the sheets. Finally, “He’s still out there.”

The words were so softly spoken that Jason almost didn’t catch them. His heart wrenched in pity – he knew that was bothering him. “Not for much longer, I promise. We’re going to find him and then he’ll be gone. You never have to see him again.”

“What if he comes back? What if…what if he tries to finish it?”

The fear on Dick’s face sparked some of his old rage. “I’ll kill him first.”

Dick blinked, startled. Jason had never shown him that side of himself before. He softened his voice. “Dick, I promise, Joker will never touch you again.”

Dick swallowed, his fingers now twisting the sheets. “I know it’s stupid to be scared–”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Yes, it is! I’m safe. I know there’s nothing to be scared of, but…” his voice tailed off. When he spoke again, his voice was no more than a whisper. “Jason, I can still hear him in my head. I can hear him laughing…saying things to me.”

Jason didn’t know what to say to that. He still heard Joker laughing in his head from time to time too, but he wasn’t sure if admitting that to Dick would make him feel better or worse. He moved over and sat on the bed. Gently, he placed an arm around Dick’s shoulders. “Dick, Joker has that effect on a lot of people. He’s a sick, twisted freak that enjoys hurting others. Being scared of him is smart, not stupid.”

“I feel like such a baby.” Dick’s expression was a mixture of anger and frustration. “Sitting here like a scared little kid…I wasn’t even able to fight back! I’ve been Batman’s partner for four years but when it came down to it, I couldn’t defend myself against one man. It’s pathetic!”

“I was seventeen when he murdered me,” Jason pointed out. “I was older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you, and I had more experience…but I still couldn’t defend myself against him. Joker is far from average, Dick. He’s a psychopath who’s been doing this for a long time.”

“And I didn’t listen when you tried to warn me,” said Dick miserably. “I should have listened! This is my own stupid fault.”

“This is NOT your fault!” snapped Jason fiercely. “The only person at fault here is that freak! And maybe myself and Bruce for not having the sense to realize that you would follow us into Gotham anyway – hell, that's what I’d have done at your age! If we’d just let you come with us then none of this would have happened.”

“Jason, this wasn’t your fault, or Bruce’s. I’m the one who acted like a stupid little kid.”

“Hey, Dick, guess what – you are a kid! I know you don’t like to hear that, but you are. And that means you’re not always going to look before you leap. Kids do stupid stuff and it’s up to their guardians to make sure they’re safe. That was mine and Bruce’s job and we failed at that.”

“Jason, I’m old enough to know the difference between right and wrong.”

“It’s not about right and wrong! It’s about kids doing dumbass stuff because they don’t always think. You can’t help it, its part of the wiring in your brain.” He gave Dick a grin and was delighted to see a small smile on the boy’s face.

“You do know you just gave me carte blanche to act like a dumbass?”

Jason groaned when he realized Dick was right. “Don’t tell Bruce! And watch your language.”

“You said it!”

“I’m an adult.”

Dick didn’t have the chance to respond because at that moment, Alfred entered the room bearing a tray. Jason saw his eyes go straight to Dick and a smile crossed his lips. “Master Dick, it is most _turbing_ to see you looking a little brighter,” he said, placing the tray on the dresser.

“Yeah, I– wait!” Dick’s head twisted and he stared at the butler. “Alfred, what did you just say?!”

“I said I am glad to see you looking a little brighter.”

“That’s not what you said!” A gleeful smile was spreading across Dick’s face. “You dropped a prefix!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.”

Jason stared between Dick’s delighted expression and Alfred’s mysterious smile, not quite sure what was going on. He raised an eyebrow in the butler’s general direction.

But the man didn’t elaborate. “Sir, Master Bruce is having breakfast in the dinning room and has requested that you join him. I have set a place for you.” His expression was gentler as he turned to Dick. “Master Dick, I have your breakfast and medication here. Master Bruce will be up to you afterwards.”

Dick’s face fell slightly. “Okay, Alfred.”

Jason gave his shoulder the gentlest of squeezes before removing his arm. “Hey, I’ll be up afterwards too, okay?”

“Okay.”

He stood up and exchanged a look with Alfred. They both knew what was bothering him. With both arms out of commission, he was almost helpless and required someone to do most things for him, including feed him. For an independent teenager like Dick, it was beyond humiliating. Jason knew he hated it and had been eating less in an effort to endure it as little as possible. They would have to work on that because aside from needing the calories to convalesce, Dick was already skinny enough.

He ruffled the boy’s hair and left the room. As the door closed, he could hear Dick starting to tease Alfred about prefixes. He didn’t know what that was about – it was obviously some private joke between them – but it lifted his heart to see Dick smile. This morning was the first time he had done so since regaining consciousness.

When he reached the dinning room, Bruce was sitting in his usual seat, an untouched plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. He looked tired and was frowning into space.

“Morning,” Jason greeted him and he looked up.

“How’s Dick?”

“Better. We actually got a smile out of him this morning.”

Several emotions raced across the older man’s face too fast for Jason to identify them.

“What about you?” he asked, sliding into the seat beside Bruce and lifting the stainless-steel cover that Alfred had placed on the plate to keep his breakfast hot. “Where were you? I’m surprised you weren’t there when he woke up.”

“I was here last night when they brought him home,” said Bruce shortly. “There was something very important I had to do afterwards.”

“Hey, I wasn’t judging. Just making sure you’re okay.”

Bruce gave him a sharp look but didn’t comment.

Jason started to eat his breakfast. “So, what were you doing?”

“Finishing the diagnostics to send Joker back to his reality.”

“But we haven’t got him yet.”

“Actually, the League located him three nights ago.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?!” Jason exploded, his fork falling to the plate with a clatter. “They’ve had him all this time and you didn’t tell me?” He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t tell Dick! Bruce, the kid is scared because he thinks Joker is still out there! How could you not tell him?”

“Because I want to be able to tell him that we’ve not only captured Joker, but sent him back.” Bruce fixed him with a penetrating look. “And I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure how you would react.”

“How I would react?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you don’t think clearly when it comes to this Joker, and I wasn’t letting you put yourself in a position where you might do something drastic.”

“Something drastic. You mean kill him.”

“Yes.”

“For chrissakes! After what he did to Dick how can you even care what happens to that freak?”

“I don’t. I just don’t want you doing something that there’s no coming back from.”

Jason blinked. “What?”

Bruce’s expression was darker and more dangerous than Jason had ever seen it. “There’s a reason the League have Joker imprisoned somewhere I don’t know about. There’s a reason I needed to finish the diagnostics so we can send him back as quickly as possible. While he’s around, I don’t trust myself. Make no mistake, Jason, I want that clown _dead!_ But I know that if I give into that instinct then there’s no coming back. I would be of no use to Gotham and, more importantly, no use to Dick. And I’m not letting you go down that road either. I said I wanted to help you and I meant it. This is my way of doing that.”

“So…you didn’t tell me because you were trying to…what? Protect me?”

Bruce nodded.

Jason was stunned. “Why?”

The older man looked sad at the question. “Why not? Jason, when was the last time you had someone look out for you?”

He didn’t answer.

“The truth is, Jason, you’ve been on your own for too long, fighting and pretending like you don’t care about anything. But we both know that’s not true.”

His eyes narrowed. Bruce knew about his breakdown. _Goddamn Flash, he told!_

Flash had comforted Jason during his melt-down, but he hadn’t mentioned it since and Jason had hoped that meant he wouldn’t say anything to anyone. He should have known the other man wouldn’t stay quiet – they were all too damn touchy-feely in this reality!

Bruce seemed to guess what was bothering him. “He only told me. He was concerned about you.”

“Well, there’s no need to be, I’m fine!” He glared at Bruce. The older man had his elbows on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his mouth. His gaze was searching. Jason sighed. “There’s a reason you’re saying all this, isn’t there?”

Bruce studied him over the tips of his fingers, as though assessing how to phrase his next words.

“Come on, Bruce, out with it.”

“Jason, do you want to go home?”

Okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you had the choice between staying here and returning to your own world, what would you choose?”

Jason stared at him. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because you and I have never discussed the realities of transdimensional travel.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The veil between worlds is thinner than you know, fragile. It doesn’t take much to tear down that barrier. One of the things that can disrupt the barrier between realities is transdimensional travel.”

Jason’s heart started to beat a little faster. “What do you mean?”

“The barrier between worlds is pure energy and energy can disrupt it. Our bodies don’t just operate on kinetic energy, we also give out energy fields unique to each individual. Two people with the same energy field will warp the barrier between realities – the longer two counterpoints remain in the same reality, the more unstable it becomes.”

“Counterpoints?”

“Your alternative self.”

Jason’s heart was beating wildly now. Just by being here he was screwing up this world. No way could he stay now. He scowled angrily at Bruce. “Why the hell would you even ask me if I wanted to stay when you know I can’t?”

“I never said you can’t.”

Jason wanted to punch him. “You just said that I’m making this world unstable by being here! How the hell can I stay?”

“I believe what I said was the longer two counterpoints remain in the same reality, the more unstable it becomes.”

“Same fucking thing!”

“Actually, it’s not. And the reason I haven’t asked you whether or not you wanted to stay until now is because I didn’t think you could.”

Jason froze. “What?”

“People without a counterpoint in this reality can remain.” Bruce reached for a small brown folder on the table beside him and handed it to him.

Jason took the proffered folder and opened it, revealing a certificate of death for one Jason Todd. The page behind it was a newspaper print-out. A picture of a boy who looked eerily similar to his younger self grinned up at him.

“Your counterpoint overdosed on drugs that he accidently ingested at age five,” Bruce told him gently. “You don’t have an alternative self in this world.”

His heart continued to beat wildly. “You’re telling me I can stay.”

“Yes.”

Jason was exasperated now. “And you couldn’t just have said that instead of the big physics lecture?”

“If I had, I wouldn’t have seen just how much you want to stay,” said Bruce.

Jason stared at the image of his alternative self, feeling a little sad that even in this reality, his mother had picked drugs over her own son. He wondered if any of his counterpoints in other realities had ever had a chance. The thought occurred to him that by staying in this reality, he would have the chance to start over. 

“Do you think I should stay?”

“It’s not for me to say, that decision is yours alone. Should you decide to go home, I can make that happen. If you decide to stay, I will aid you in every way that I can.”

Jason was torn. He wanted to stay, had wanted it almost since the beginning. But if he stayed, then he would never make things right with his own mentor. And what about Dick? Would Dick want him to stay or would he just be a horrible reminder of the tortures he had endured at the hands of the Joker? “Does Dick know about this?”

“No. He still thinks that you have to return to your reality at some point. I wanted to speak to you first.”

Jason closed the folder. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to decide now. This is a big decision and you should think about it.”

“How long do I have to decide?”

“As long as you need.”

“But what about Joker? If I decide to go back, won’t you be sending us together?”

“Absolutely not! Superman is going to deliver him to the hands of the authorities in your reality. I am not sending you through together.”

“Don’t trust me, huh?”

Bruce scowled darkly. “I don’t even trust myself with him after…” his voice tailed off and his jaw clenched. “Besides, we’re sending him back as quickly as possible because his presence here is seriously disrupting the veil between realities. It would appear that even his energy is pure poison.”

Something in Jason’s mind clicked. Bruce had been up all night working on this. “Exactly when are you sending him back?”

“Today.”

“What!” Jason got to his feet. “When?”

Bruce didn’t answer.

Jason knew what that meant. “They’re doing it soon, aren’t they?” He was furious. He wanted to see the clown before he left, look him in the eye to prove he hadn’t won. “Goddamn it, Bruce!” He rushed for the door.

“Jason, wait!”

The younger man ignored him.

oOo

Jason’s hands were shaking and he clutched the handlebars harder as the bike roared up the hill. He knew exactly where the Justice League would be.

The ruins of the Gotham Planetarium came into view and Jason let the bike screech to a halt. He climbed off, eyes narrowing as they landed on a small group of people gathered in front of what used to be the Planetarium. He moved in that direction and two of them came forward to meet him – Flash and some guy in black and green spandex that Jason hadn’t met before.

He rolled his eyes. Just what was it with this reality and spandex?

“Should you be here?” asked Flash cautiously as they drew level.

“Probably not. Where is he?”

“Uh, I really don’t think you should–”

“ _Where is he?!_ ”

The two men exchanged a look, then Flash gestured back towards the group.

Jason pushed past them and strode over to where three other Justice League members were gathered: Superman, Red Tornado and a dark-haired woman in underwear the colour of the American flag. If he had been less on edge, Jason would have wholeheartedly approved of that costume.

As it was, his attention was captured by the man kneeling on the ground with his hands cuffed behind his back and a strange collar around his neck. He leered as he caught sight of Jason. “Hoodie! You look good. Didn’t lose any limbs in the explosion then? I’m impressed; you really are getting good at the Houdini thing.”

Jason didn’t answer. His fists clenched as he stared down at Joker. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Superman draw closer to him.

“What’s the matter, pumpkin? Bat got your tongue?” The clown hooted and cackled with laughter. “How is Batsy? Haven’t seen him around these last few days…I’m a little hurt that he doesn’t want to see me.”

Jason still didn’t speak and Joker pouted. “Aw, Hoodie, you really are getting to be such a big boy now, all cross and silent like Batsy and the other grown-ups. It’s just not fun you know.” A sly smile crossed his face. “Not like the little birdie…now _he_ was a lot of fun.”

Jason smashed a fist into the clown’s jaw, but before he could hit him again, Superman was behind him, one strong arm around his waist dragging him backwards while the other grabbed his swinging fist in an iron grip.

“Let me at him!” Jason snarled, struggling.

“No,” Superman whispered in his ear. “He’s baiting you. Don’t give him what he wants.”

Jason stopped struggling and looked at the clown. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth as he cackled wildly. Superman was right; he was goading him to get a reaction. Jason could have smacked himself. All his supposed lessons of the last few days and he was still letting this freak push his buttons. 

He exhaled. “Okay, fine.” Superman didn’t release his hold. “You can let me go,” Jason told him in a low voice. “I won’t react again.”

This time, Superman did release him, but Jason could sense the reluctance with which he let go.

“Is that why Batsy’s not here?” Joker called. “Mourning his little bird is he?”

_What?_

Jason was glad his mask hid his surprise and he glanced at the members of the Justice League. They were watching Joker with arms crossed and impassive faces. Every one of them were silent. It suddenly struck Jason that they had told Joker nothing about Batman or Robin – the clown still thought he had killed Robin! Jason gave a bitter smile behind the mask. He was going to enjoy this.

“I guess no one told you – probably didn’t think you were worth telling – but…Robin’s alive. He’s going to be just fine.” Jason wasn’t sure about the ‘just fine’ part, but there was no need for Joker to know that.

The smile on the clown’s face dropped slightly. “That’s not a very funny joke, Hoodie.”

“Oh, it’s not a joke. You know better than that, freak.” His voice dropped. “I wouldn’t lie about this.”

Joker was silent as he scowled up at Jason, and he felt a grim satisfaction that he had provoked a reaction other than laughter from the clown.

It didn’t last long. A malicious grin unfurled. “Guess that means I get a second play date with the little birdie.”

Jason jerked, but caught himself in time. “No, you won’t.” He adopted the tone of one talking to a small child. “You see these nice people here? They’re going to take you home, back to Arkham. No more play dates for you.”

“What’s the matter, Hoodie? Don’t they trust you to do it?”

“Oh they trust me…I just have better things to do.”

The clown was still smiling, but Jason could see anger in his eyes. “I can come back. If you think I made the little bird scream before it’ll be nothing compared to what I do next time.”

But Jason was wise to the clown now. He wasn’t going to indulge him by reacting. “Nah. You haven’t got the smarts to come back and you were stupid enough to kill the scientist who opened the portal. Once you go home, you’re staying there.”

“What about you?” Joker tried again to antagonize him. “Staying with the Bats you don’t want to kill?”

“Haven’t decided. But a world without you in it? That’s very tempting.”

“Awwww, so you do still think about me?”

“Not really.” Jason dropped to his haunches in front of Joker. “You see, I’ve realized something about you: you’re not nearly as crazy as you’d like everyone to believe, or even as crazy as you’d like to believe. It’s more fun for you to think you do the things you do because you’re completely crazy, otherwise you’re just another sadistic psychopath…and what’s so special about that?”

All pretence at smiling was gone now and Joker looked enraged. Jason realized that he had really gotten under the clown’s skin and felt a surge of victory. He’d been waiting a long time to wipe that grin off the clown’s face.

He stood up. “Face it, Joker, I’ve decided that you’re just not worth it anymore.”

Jason turned and started to walk away. He could hear the clown yelling after him. “When I come back, Hoodie, I’ll show you what crazy is! Ask the little birdie about the last game we were going to play…ask him!”

Jason never looked back.


	13. Chapter 13

Jason was strangely calm when he returned to the Manor. For once in his life, an encounter with the Joker hadn’t left him a seething mass of rage. He supposed it was because he had finally gotten the better of the clown, beaten him at his own game.

He climbed the stairs to Dick’s room, deep in thought. He still hadn’t decided whether he would stay or not. He wanted to stay, wanted it very much, but he also felt he owed it to his own mentor to make things right between them. He needed to talk to Bruce before he decided. Pushing open the bedroom door, he wasn’t surprised to find Bruce there. The older man was sitting on the bed almost behind Dick with both arms around him. The boy was asleep, his head propped against Bruce’s chest. The TV was playing in the corner.

Jason cocked an eyebrow as he approached the bed and caught sight of the TV screen: two men were fighting what looked like a vampire. “ _What_ are you watching?”

“I don’t know. Can you turn it off, please?” asked Bruce imploringly.

Jason chuckled and did so, before sinking into the chair by the bed.

The older man kept his voice quiet. “Thanks. Its one of his favourite shows; I put it on so he would have something to do, but he fell asleep.” He glanced down at Dick. “I think the medication is knocking him out.”

Jason kept his voice low as well. “How is he?”

“In pain.” Bruce looked him straight in the eye. “I take it Joker is gone?”

“I assume so. I left before the big exit.”

“You left?”

“I said what I needed to say.”

Bruce didn’t inquire further. Jason guessed he would discuss it later with the other League members, but he didn’t really care. He had more pressing concerns. “Did you tell Dick they caught him?”

“Yes.”

“How’d he take it?” 

Bruce looked down again at the sleeping boy again. “I don’t know, he didn’t say much.” His arms tightened around Dick. He looked back at Jason, and the younger man could see a terrible anguish and regret in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I did this to him.” 

“Bruce, this isn’t your fault–” 

“Yes, it is. What was I _thinking_ letting a child fight crime! Dick is the closest thing I have to a son – I’m supposed to protect him! But what did I do? Start training him to fight criminals when he was just nine-years-old! Most parents would go to the ends of the earth to keep their children away from the scum that I let Dick encounter.”

“But look at why you let him become Robin – because he needed to get justice for his family’s murder. You meant well.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions!” snapped Bruce. “Irrespective of my intentions, I trained a _child_ to fight criminals. It was madness to do so. But I won’t be making that mistake again.”

Something cold churned in Jason’s gut. “What do you mean?”

“Robin is finished. I will never put Dick in such a dangerous situation again.”

“You can’t do that, Bruce.” Jason couldn’t believe he was arguing in favour of Robin, but he had a feeling that Bruce was making the wrong decision here. “If you bench Robin now, then Dick is going to think he’s being punished for what Joker did to him. It’s going to be hard enough getting over this without him thinking that you blame him for it. He’s already blaming himself for not listening.”

“I don’t blame him, I blame myself. I should have known better than to leave him in the cave and expect him to stay put just because I told him to. He disobeyed those exact orders only a few months ago. If I’d let him come with us this never would have happened!”

“Joker had buildings rigged to blow all over that block,” Jason reminded him. “He would have set them off just to split us up as soon as he saw Robin.”

Bruce shook his head. “Between us, one of us would have been aware of where Robin was – Joker would never have gotten the opportunity to take him. I know that because all I did while Dick was unconscious was play out every possible scenario in my head. And the only ones that allowed Joker to do what he did to Robin were the ones where I left him in the cave.”

“Which proves that he’s safer with you,” Jason pointed out. “Dick’s already shown you that he’ll disobey. You fire Robin and what’s to stop him from setting out on his own? Bruce, you’re the one who told me the decision of whether Dick wants to be Robin or not is his to make.”

Bruce was frowning. “And you’re the one who kidnapped him to try and talk him out of being Robin. You didn’t want him doing this…why are you suddenly in favour of Robin?”

“Actually, I’m not. I just know that you firing him from the role of Robin would have its own consequences, none of them good for Dick. And in the end, isn’t that what this is all about – what’s best for Dick? Bruce, he may not even want to be Robin after this!”

The older man fell silent and Jason could see him frowning while he analyzed what he had just said. 

He was surprised to hear Bruce talk like this. It wasn’t like him to make such rash decisions. But as he looked at the man resting his cheek against Dick’s head while softly stroking the fingers of his right hand, he realized that Bruce wasn’t thinking as Batman, he was thinking as a father. This was the first time that Dick had been seriously injured and it had shaken him to his very core.

It was several minutes before Bruce spoke again. “Maybe you’re right. But that still doesn’t change the fact that this never should have happened. I should never have trained him as Robin.”

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda. You can’t change the past, only move forward. You know that better than anyone.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You’ve grown since you came here.”

Jason gave him a sheepish grin. “Believe me, no one’s more surprised than me.”

“Have you given any thought to staying?”

“Some. I wanted to talk to you before I make a decision.”

Bruce looked at him expectantly.

“If I decide to stay, does that mean I can never return to my own world?”

“No, you can return any time you wish.”

“What if I wanted to return to my own world for a visit, but come back here?”

Bruce didn’t seem at all surprised at the question. “It would be harder, but still possible.”

“Seriously?” 

“Yes.”

Jason was surprised. He hadn’t expected his dilemma to be solved so easily. In his experience, nothing was ever easy. Maybe things were changing.

“Does this mean you’re considering staying?” Bruce wanted to know.

He nodded. “But I want to talk to Dick first. He may not want me here after what happened with Joker. I might be just a bad reminder.”

“No, you’re not,” said a quiet voice.

They both looked at Dick in surprise. Neither of them had realised he was awake.

Bruce frowned down at him. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since you asked Jason about staying. Can he really stay? He doesn’t have to go back?”

“Yes. He doesn’t have a counterpoint in this reality.”

Dick turned back to Jason and struggled to sit up straighter.

“Easy, Dick, don’t strain your ribs,” Bruce chided gently.

But Dick wasn’t listening. His eyes were glued to Jason. “Please stay! I don’t want you to go.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” cried Dick, his expression desperate. “Jason, please don’t go!”

Jason glanced at Bruce. _The decision is yours,_ his expression seemed to say, but Jason could also see warmth there, as if he too were hoping he would stay. He looked back at Dick and grinned. “Who could say no to a face like that?”

Dick’s whole face broke into a delighted smile. He beamed at Jason and tried to surge forward but Bruce stopped him before he could wrench his injuries.

Jason was startled to realise the boy had wanted to hug him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had embraced _anyone_ – he wasn’t exactly the hugging type. But seeing Dick’s smile falter as he was reminded of his limited mobility, Jason got to his feet and moved towards the bed. He sat down and leaned forward, awkwardly putting his arms around the boy as Bruce released him. It felt weird…until Dick leaned into him and rested his head against his shoulder. He couldn’t raise his arms but Jason could feel his unbroken fingers clutching at his shirt. Unexpectedly, warmth flooded him and for the first time in his life, Jason felt like he was home.

oOo

“What’s the matter, little birdie, not having fun? Never mind, I know what we can do to have fun.”

Cackling laughter echoed in his ears and something crushed him into the floor. Hands tugged at his cape and Dick screamed. “Nooooooooooooooo!” 

Suddenly, he was in darkness, gasping and bolting upright as sweat trickled down the side of his face. It was a dream. Just a dream. His heart was pounding as trembling fingers reached for the bed-side lamp. He jerked when his bedroom door flew open.

“What! What is it? Dick, are you alright?” Jason was silhouetted in the door-frame wearing nothing but sweatpants.

Dick cringed. He must have screamed out loud and woken Jason. His shaking fingers finally found the light switch and flicked it on. Soft lighting flooded his bed. “I’m fine,” he muttered, as Jason approached the bed. “It was just a stupid dream.”

“Didn’t sound stupid, what was it about?”

“Nothing. I don’t remember.”

“Right.” Jason looked sceptical.

“I don’t. I’m fine, Jason, really. I just want to go back to sleep.”

“Want me to make some hot chocolate? It won’t be as good as Alfred’s but it might help you sleep.”

“No thanks, I’m okay.”

Jason sat into the chair beside the bed.

Dick frowned at him. “What are you doing? Go back to bed.”

“Nope, sorry. Staying here until you fall asleep.”

“Dude, I had enough people watching me sleep at Mount Justice! It’s creepy.”

“Tough. Suck it up, I’m staying.”

Dick scowled. It was bad enough he had screamed out and woken Jason. Now he had to feel like an even bigger baby by having someone sit with him until he fell asleep? Hell no! “Jason, go back to bed, I’m fine.”

“Really? Then why where you screaming?”

“I told you, it was just a stupid dream!”

“Must have been some dream to make you scream like that. Was it about the Joker?”

Dick didn’t answer. His ribs were starting to ache again and he rubbed at them with his left hand.

Jason got to his feet and propped the pillows behind Dick before sitting back down. He fixed him with a serious expression. “Dick, it’s been three weeks since Joker beat the crap out of you and my room is right next to yours – do you really think I haven’t heard you crying out in your sleep?”

Oh god! Dick flushed crimson. Jason had heard him other nights? _He must think I’m a total wuss!_

“You’re not a coward,” said Jason, as though sensing his thoughts. “How many thirteen-year-olds do you know who’ve been tortured?”

“I’m not most thirteen-year-olds; I’ve been facing off against criminals since I was nine!”

“That doesn’t make you invincible. Dick, what Joker did to you could break a grown man! It doesn’t make you weak to have trouble dealing with it.” His voice was quiet. “I had nightmares for a long time after Joker murdered me.”

Dick stared. Jason was tough. _Really_ tough. And he’d had bad dreams? “How did you deal with them?”

“Badly. I ignored them, tried to pretend they weren’t happening. But I didn’t have anyone to talk to about them. Maybe if I did, they wouldn’t have been so bad.”

Not for the first time, Dick felt sorry for Jason. Joker may have tortured him, but at least he had plenty of people to help him get through it. Jason had had no one. “I’m sorry you were all alone.”

Jason shrugged. “It was partly my own fault. I could have gone back to Bruce, let him know I was alive, but I was too angry at him.” He shook his head. “Besides, I thought I could handle it…kind of like your tough guy act right now.”

“Some tough guy,” Dick muttered.

“You’re tougher than you think, kid.”

Dick wished he could believe that. But after his brutal encounter with Joker he was seriously beginning to question his worth as Robin. How was he supposed to help Batman when he couldn’t even defend himself against one man? 

He tried not to think about the fear he had been feeling at the idea of putting back on the Robin uniform. Dick loved being Robin and he wasn’t willing to let Joker take that from him, but he didn’t know how to get past this fear and he was angry at himself for that. He was Robin, the Boy Wonder, for crying out loud! He wasn’t supposed to get scared.

Jason sighed. “Dick, I get that you’re scared and whether you believe it or not, it’s okay to be scared. It takes time to get over something like this. And the best way to do that is to talk about what’s bothering you.” He leaned forward in his chair. “I know you’ve talked to Bruce about what happened with Joker because he told me about it…but I don’t think you’ve told him everything.”

Dick’s heart started to beat a little faster. Jason had an eerie way of knowing when someone was hiding something. He hadn’t been able to tell Bruce about the last horrible minutes with the Joker before Wally had arrived, when he had thought that Joker was going to… He shook his head vehemently. _Nope, not going there!_

Jason narrowed his eyes at the head shake. “C’mon, kid, if you can’t talk to me about this, then who can you talk to?”

Dick stared at the shadows the lamp was casting over his bed. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t even want to think about it, but the harder he tried to bury it the more it seemed to grow. It was like some form of toxic mould growing and lodging in his brain. Maybe Jason was right, maybe he did need to talk about this.

The problem was he didn’t know where to begin. His own thoughts were frightening him, so how was he supposed to talk about them? He looked at Jason. The man’s eyes were much softer and kinder than when he’d first arrived in this world. And Jason understood better than anyone how he was feeling... 

Unconsciously, his left arm hugged itself against him – his right arm was still immobile in the splints. “Did Bruce tell you that he made a game out of everything?” 

Scowling darkly, Jason nodded.

“They were kids’ games at first, but he twisted them. And then he said…he said he wanted to play a grown-up game.” 

“Did he say what?”

Dick swallowed. Hard. “Doctor’s and nurses.” 

Jason’s expression was getting darker by the second. He looked like he wanted to punch something.

“I didn’t know what he meant,” Dick whispered, going cold at the memory. “When he told me, I freaked out…hit him in the face with the manacles but…he put the knife through my shoulder…I couldn’t stop him, Jason! And I tried, I really did! If Wally hadn’t shown up…” He swallowed again. His hands were shaking and there was a suspicious lump in his throat.

Jason’s face was black with rage, and Dick could hear him muttering a slew of obscenities under his breath. Finally, he calmed down enough to speak. “Dick, everything about that freak clown is jacked! But he wouldn’t have done that, it’s not his MO, never has been. Telling you that was just another way to get inside your head and torment you.”

“You’re just saying that.” His voice was very small and Dick hated that he actually sounded thirteen.

“No, I’m not. If I thought for one second that Joker had really intended to do that to you, I’d be jumping the next portal back to my world to put a bullet in his skull!” 

Dick stared at him, wanting so badly to believe him. This was the thing about his ordeal that frightened him the most. He could cope with the torture – physical pain would fade. It was the mental images and the laughing voice that Joker’s last threat had left in his head which haunted him. It didn’t matter that he knew Joker was a psychopath; the intention behind his actions still freaked him out. He couldn’t deal with someone wanting to do that to him.

But if the threat really was just another evil taunt of Joker’s, it took away the intention behind it. In a weird way, that made it seem less frightening. It was easier to shake off an empty threat than such vile intention. “You’re really not just saying this?”

“I promise I’m not. Joker has zero interest in…that. He gets his kicks through torture and pain and generally just pissing people off!”

Dick closed his eyes and exhaled. The thought of his last few minutes at the Joker’s hands still made his skin crawl, but he also felt lighter. After talking with Jason, the weight of that memory didn’t feel so suffocating or frightening. He opened his eyes. One thing still niggled at him. “Jason, do you think I’m a coward?”

“No way!” said Jason vehemently. “You’re the bravest kid I know, Dick.”

“How can you say that? You’ve only seen me in action as Robin once!”

“Yeah, but Wally’s been filling me in. I thought those stories you told me that night at dinner were just tall tales, but you were serious. Hell, I hadn’t even seen half that action by the time I was fifteen! Plus, you inspired a whole generation of sidekicks. Wally and the others, they’re all superheroes because of what you did as Robin.”

“Technically, I’m Batman’s partner.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Just take the compliment, short-ass.”

Dick grinned.

The man cocked his head to one side. “Feel better?”

It was strange that just talking about the thing which had been giving him nightmares for the last three weeks should make him feel better, but it did. It was out there now, not some horrible burden gnawing away inside him. He nodded. “Thanks for listening,” he said softly.

Jason smiled and patted his leg. “Anytime, kid.”

oOo

Dirk Cadwell was woken suddenly and found himself staring into a red mask. Before he could cry out, a gag was slapped across his mouth. The masked stranger pulled him from his bed and yanked him through the French doors that led out to the patio of his father’s penthouse apartment. Dirk didn’t remember leaving those open before he went to bed.

He whimpered. Was he being kidnapped? 

The man in the red mask was silent as he dragged him across the roof. When they reached the edge, the man pinned him against the wall and pushed him forward. Dirk could barely see the traffic more than fifty stories below them. He whimpered again.

“Hello, Dirk,” the stranger whispered threateningly in his ear. “I’m Red Hood. Its time you and I had a little chat about the kids you bully.”

Dirk was confused and stared back at him, wild-eyed. What?

“Don’t give me that innocent look. I know all about you, _Dirk_.” The way the man said his name had an unfriendly, dangerous edge to it. “I know you and your buddies have been bullying smaller kids at Gotham Academy; I’ve already paid your friends a visit tonight.”

Dirk shook his head and made muffled sounds through the gag. Who was this guy? What the hell was going on?!

The man shoved him harder into the wall. “Don’t shake your head at me, punk! That girl in your class with the learning disabilities, Donna Jacobs? I know about her. The sophomore with the bad acne, Mark Freeman? I know about him too. And Dick Grayson, the freshman you keep picking on just because he grew up in a circus? Him as well. Do you want me to keep going?”

Dirk shook his head. 

“Good. Because if I have to waste more time on you then I need to, I’ll get really pissed. And, Dirk? I get _violent_ when I’m pissed.”

Dirk swallowed. His knees were shaking. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen: you and your buddies are going to stop bullying all those kids you’ve been picking on. No more name calling, no more pushing kids around and knocking their books. In fact, don’t even look at the kids you’ve been bullying, got it?”

Dirk twisted his head back and gawped up at the man. This was really about _bullying?_ Seriously? Was this guy for real? He almost laughed.

The eyes narrowed behind the mask. “You don’t think I’m serious? I’ll show you serious.”

Before Dirk knew what was happening, Red Hood had swooped down and bound his legs together before pitching him off the edge of the building. He plummeted downwards before his body snapped as his freefall was halted suddenly – Red Hood was holding the other end of the rope that bound his legs together. Muffled screams echoed through the gag as he hung upside down in mid-air. He scrabbled frantically at empty space.

_Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!_

After what felt like an eternity, Dirk was hauled back up onto the roof. Red Hood seized the front of his t-shirt and lowered his face so that it was almost touching his. “You stay away from those kids or I will drop you head first off this building. Do you understand?” 

Dirk nodded frantically.

“And that goes for your little buddies as well!”

He flung Dirk away from him and the teenager landed face first on the ground where he lay trembling and sweating. He had a horrible feeling he may have peed his pants slightly. After almost a minute of silence, Dirk looked up.

Red Hood was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

Jason leaned against the hood of the sleek, black Lexus with his arms crossed, ignoring the curious stares swivelling in his direction. He was well aware that Gotham society was buzzing with gossip about the mysterious young man who had arrived suddenly in the city and become part of Bruce Wayne’s security team at Wayne Enterprises. 

His presence created a sensation because it was widely known that Bruce Wayne did not employ just anyone to be part of his security team: stringent background and security checks were required, as was rigid training and intensive psychological evaluations. After all, Bruce was a very wealthy man who could little afford to trust others. Jason knew it had stunned many people that a stranger with no past – a ghost really – was suddenly a senior member of one of the most elite security teams in Gotham.

But the biggest shock of all, and the one that had really set tongues wagging, was that he had been entrusted with the personal safety of Bruce Wayne’s son, Dick Grayson. No one had _ever_ been given that role before. Bruce had only trusted himself or the butler who raised him. 

Jason tilted his head and frowned behind his sunglasses. He had been concerned that his presence would raise too many questions – still was concerned – but Bruce had pointed out that Dick’s most recent ‘kidnapping’ would be answer enough for most people as to why he had suddenly recruited someone. 

To explain the injuries that Joker had inflicted on Robin, Bruce had come up with the cover story that Dick had been kidnapped, and was beaten by his abductor before Bruce could pay the ransom. Leslie Thompkins had provided detailed case notes on the boy’s injuries – removing any evidence of the sickening knife wounds to his arms – so that Gotham PD would not have to question the boy. Bruce hadn’t wanted to put him in the difficult position of having to lie about his ordeal. He had also gone to great lengths to keep Dick out of the spotlight of the media frenzy that followed once word of his supposed kidnapping broke. But the media attention did have one advantage; it added credibility to Bruce’s sudden decision to hire personal security for Dick. 

The job had been Jason’s choice. He knew Bruce would have no problem providing for him here, but he wasn’t comfortable with just taking money from the man – he wanted to earn it. When he told Bruce how he felt, the billionaire had suggested he work as a senior advisory consultant to the security team at Wayne Enterprises. Part of his job would involve escorting Dick in public when Bruce and Alfred were unable to do so.

Jason had to hand it to Bruce, putting him in a security position was a smart move. Aside from being the only thing Jason really knew how to do, it was also the type of career that sometimes required a certain level of discretion or secrecy, meaning Jason could be as vague as he liked about his past. Moreover, Bruce could now use Jason as a conduit for some of the security measures he wanted to incorporate at Wayne Enterprises. Bruce Wayne may be a corporate giant and tech expert, but he did not have the military background required to explain his vast knowledge of security operations and protocols. With Jason now working as an advisor on his security team, Bruce could utilise his knowledge via Jason.

Another smart move was assigning Jason as bodyguard to Dick. Doing so gave the public an answer as to who he was and why he was suddenly hanging around the boy. It also had the added advantage of Jason actually providing security for Dick. As Robin, Dick could defend himself against most threats. But as Dick Grayson he had to appear as just a regular teenager, or risk exposing his secret identity, thereby making him vulnerable to potential kidnappers – a very real threat with Bruce being who he was. However, should the situation demand it, Jason in his role as bodyguard could break as many arms as he liked to defend Dick and no one would question it. His presence would be particularly important over the next few weeks while Dick recovered from his injuries. Which brought Jason back to why he was currently propped against one of Bruce’s cars outside Gotham Academy, surrounded by ill-disguised whispers and curious stares – today was Dick’s first day back at school after being tortured by the Joker. 

Bruce had wanted to pick him up, but a very important meeting had run over at Wayne Enterprises so he had sent Jason instead. This being his first appearance in the role of ‘bodyguard,’ Jason was creating quite a stir. He could practically feel the multitude of interested stares boring into him. Some parents had clearly no clue as to who he was, while others had obviously guessed, but were baffled as to why Bruce Wayne had chosen this man of all people to ensure the personal security of his charge. And Jason was drawing more than just curious stares: one or two suspicious frowns had also been levelled in his direction.

“Can I help you, sir?” asked a tall, well-built man in a dark suit, joining him at the car. 

Jason sized him up. Probably a teacher, _definitely_ a snob. He was looking at Jason as though he considered him a very nasty smell. Jason grinned to himself. He supposed he did look very out of place in his leather jacket and biker boots among the well-heeled elite of Gotham. “No thanks. I’m fine.”

The man frowned. “Sir, I’m very sorry, but we have a slight problem. You see, this is not a public parking spot. It’s the school’s private pick up point for parents and guardians.”

“I know.”

“Then I’m afraid I must ask you to move.”

“Did it ever cross your mind that I’m here to pick up a kid?”

The man blinked and Jason could tell that it clearly hadn’t. “Sir, we don’t allow anyone to pick up the children of Gotham Academy without the express permission of a parent or guardian.”

Jason was amused. “Is that right?”

The man looked irritated now. “Yes, it is. And I really must insist that you leave.”

He laughed. “Relax, chuckles. I’m here legitimately with permission to pick up Dick.”

A flicker of realization dawned in the man’s eyes. “Dick Grayson? Mr. Wayne did mention that Dick would have some personal security upon his return. However, I was under the impression that it would be Mr. Wayne who was collecting Dick this afternoon.”

“Bruce got held up in a meeting. He had Alfred call ahead to let the school know that I’d be picking Dick up instead.”

The man frowned again. “I need to confirm that first.”

“You do that.” 

With a last scowl, the man walked away and Jason rolled his eyes. It didn’t bother him in the slightest that the man would never have approached him if he had been attired in a manner similar to the other occupants of this pick up zone. Jason had never cared much for the opinions of others.

Students were starting to exit the school now, laughing and chattering. Quite a few of them eyed him curiously as they went past, and several of the older girls shot him admiring glances. A couple of the braver ones even winked at him. Jason chuckled. He was tempted to wink back just for the hell of it, but a little voice in the back of his head cautioned against it. _Two words, jail bait._

Even if he was doing it for fun, he highly doubted the parents of those girls would find it amusing. Besides, he had provided enough fuel for the gossips of Gotham for one afternoon. He returned his attention to the school and spied Dirk Cadwell and his buddies among the throng of students exiting the building. His eyes narrowed and he watched the three teenagers intently. 

His visit to each of them the night before had been deliberately timed to coincide with Dick’s return to school. It had only been four weeks since the Joker’s brutal attack and he was still healing…and very vulnerable. Jason wasn’t about to let a bunch of bullies start knocking into him in the hall just because they thought it was fun.

He knew Bruce would be displeased if he was aware of what Jason had done. He supposed he had gone a bit over the top when he’d hung Dirk over the edge of the building, but the little punk’s smirking expression had enraged him. Besides, Jason had been very careful to find out more about their other victims so that the finger could never be pointed back to Dick. And by the looks of their subdued expressions as they walked past, his little intervention had worked.

“Jason!” 

Dick was coming towards him, a surprised expression on his face. “What are you doing here? I thought Bruce was picking me up?”

“His meeting ran over.” He frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to have a teacher walk you out to carry your bag?”

Dick grimaced. “Like that’s not embarrassing. Besides, Barbara offered to do it.”

It was then he noticed the cute red-head. She had one school bag on her back and another in her arms. She was studying Jason with great interest. He raised one eyebrow. “Barbara, I take it? Here, let me get that.” He took Dick’s bag and put it in the back seat of the car. Then he turned back and grinned at her. “So, modern woman carrying the man’s bag, huh?” 

“If I hadn’t, he would have carried it out himself,” she replied, shooting Dick an exasperated look. 

“Oh, _really?_ ” He returned his attention to the boy just in time to see him shushing Barbara with one of his splinted fingers. He smiled sheepishly at Jason when he realized he’d been caught.

Jason glared at him. “You are under strict orders not to lift anything heavier than a glass of soda and that bag weighs a ton! What the hell do you have in it anyway? Rocks? Dick, either you let someone carry your bag out or I will enter that school every day and do it for you, capiche?”

Dick looked horrified. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, yes I would, short-stuff! Leslie gave those orders for a reason.”

Dick was channelling his best bat-glare when they were joined by Commissioner Gordon. “Barbara, honey, you ready to go?”

“Sure, Dad.”

 _Barbara Gordon!_ Jason almost laughed out loud as he made the connection. He wondered if Dick would eventually crush on her in the same way that the Dick Grayson from his reality had.

The officer smiled at the boy. “It’s good to see you out and about, Dick. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good, Commissioner.”

“I’m glad. You know that we’re going to find the guy who hurt you and put him behind bars, right?”

Dick looked at the ground, shrugging his good shoulder. Jason knew he was uncomfortable lying to the Commissioner and hoped the man wouldn’t ask him any questions.

But the Commissioner was more sensitive than Jason gave him credit for. He immediately sensed the boy’s discomfort and backed off. “You look after yourself, okay, son?” he said gently, patting Dick’s good shoulder.

“Yes, sir.”

He turned to Jason. “You must be Jason Todd. Mr. Wayne told me about you.”

The older man was studying him intently. Jason realized he had used Barbara as an opportunity to come over and check him out. It didn’t bother him. He knew enough about this man to know that he was a good officer who was only assessing him out of genuine concern for Bruce and Dick. “I am.” He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Commissioner.”

The officer took his hand and shook it. “Bruce told me you worked abroad before this, is that right?”

He nodded. “I was part of a personal security team for a wealthy family in South Africa. A mutual friend introduced me to Bruce.” 

“Really? That sounds interesting.”

“It was.” He could tell that Gordon wanted to ask more questions, but his answer was deliberately phrased to prevent that. Bruce had concocted a cover story for Jason – one that allowed him to be vague and which was set in a country where it would be impossible to corroborate the story.

When Jason didn’t elaborate further, Commissioner Gordon took the hint and turned to his daughter. “We’d better go, honey. Welcome to Gotham, Jason.”

“Thanks.” Jason knew he was reserving judgement on him until he got to know him a little better…or found out more about him.

Barbara waved goodbye and the Gordons moved away. Jason opened the passenger door for Dick, shutting it after the boy climbed in. He could see the remaining parents still watching him with interest. He ignored them, sat into the car and started it up. “So, how was your first day back?” he asked as the car moved out.

“Okay. Everyone kept asking me about my _kidnapping_ though.” There was a twang of irritation in his tone. “I wish they’d just let it go.”

“Give them a few days and they will,” said Jason comfortingly. He cast an eye at Dick. The boy looked a little paler today. “You okay?”

“My ribs hurt,” he admitted.

“Painkillers and a bottle of water are in the glove box.” Alfred had put them in there because Dick had refused to bring them with him to school. Jason shook his head. Teenagers could be so pigheaded sometimes. “Any trouble with those bullies?” he asked casually.

Dick shook his head as he washed the pills down with some water. “No. I thought Dirk would be a real jerk today, but he didn’t even come near me. And when I met him in the hall, he just turned and ran the other way! It was weird.”

Jason suppressed a gleeful grin. “Maybe he feels sorry for you after the kidnapping and that’s why he left you alone?”

Dick didn’t answer and Jason glanced at him. The boy was watching him with a suspicious expression. “Jason, what did you do?”

“Me? What makes you think I did anything?”

Dick’s eyes widened. “You _did_ do something! Jason!”

“Alright, maybe I did. But I didn’t hurt the little snot, just had a talk with him. No big deal.”

“It’ll be a very big deal if Bruce finds out.”

“He’s not going to find out, and even if he does, there’s nothing he can do about it now. Besides, the little punk had it coming.”

Dick gave a short laugh. “Jason, you have the weirdest logic I’ve ever heard!”

He grinned back. “You wouldn’t be the first to say that. Now, enough about Dirk the jerk. You up to seeing my new place?”

“You’ve got somewhere _already?_ ” Dick was dismayed. “I still don’t see why you can’t stay at the manor.”

“Because I am too old to be living with Bruce!” He didn’t mention that he couldn’t exactly bring any potential lady friends back to the manor either. “Besides, I’m supposed to be your personal security. People are gonna start asking questions if I’m there twenty-four seven.”

Dick still looked disappointed. 

“It’s a roof-top apartment with plenty of space,” said Jason coaxingly. “Even has a nice roomy guest bedroom if anyone ever wanted to spend the night…”

That got his attention. “Seriously?”

“If Bruce is okay with it.”

“Awesome!” 

“I take it that means you’d like to see it?”

Dick nodded.

“Fancy paying a visit to Inside Scoop afterwards?”

Dick raised an eyebrow and gave him a sly grin. “Before dinner?”

“I won’t tell Alfred if you don’t.”

Dick laughed. “Deal.”

Jason grinned, manoeuvring the car through the uptown traffic.

“Jay?”

He blinked. Had he just been given a nickname? “Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you decided to stay.”

He looked at Dick’s happy expression and smiled. “Me too, kid, me too.”


End file.
